\4 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS 

THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 

MARTHA   VON   TILLING 

BY 

BERTHA   VON    SUTTNER 

AUTHORISED  TRANSLATION   BY 

T.  HOLMES 
REVISED    BY    THE    AUTHORESS 

New  Impression 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO 

FOURTH  AVENUE  6^  30TH  STREET,  NEW  YORK 

LONDON,  BOMBAY,  CALCUTTA  AND  MADRAS 

1914 


V 


^ 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST 
EDITION. 

When  I  was  requested  by  the  Committee  of  the  Inter- 
national Arbitration  and  Peace  Association,  of  which  I 
have  the  honour  to  be  a  Member,  to  undertake  the 
translation  of  the  novel  entitled  Du  Waffen  Nieder,  I 
considered  it  my  duty  to  consent ;  and  I  have  found  the 
labour  truly  a  delight.  Baroness  Suttner's  striking  tale 
has  had  so  great  a  success  on  the  Continent  of  Europe 
that  it  seems  singular  that  no  complete  translation 
into  English  should  yet  have  appeared.  An  incomplete 
version  was  published  some  time  since  in  the  United 
States,  without  the  sanction  of  the  authoress;  but  it 
gives  no  just  idea  of  the  work. 

Apart  from  its  value  as  a  work  of  fiction — great  as 
that  is — the  book  has  a  transcendent  interest  for  the 
Society  with  which  I  am  connected  from  its  bearing  on 
the  question  of  war  in  general  and  of  the  present  state 
of  Europe  in  particular.  We  English-speaking  people, 
whether  in  England,  in  the  Colonies,  or  in  the  United 
States,  being  ourselves  in  no  immediate  danger  of  seeing 
our  homes  invaded,  and  our  cities  laid  under  contri* 
but  ion  by  hostile  armies,  are  apt  to  forget  how  terribly 
the  remembrance  of  such  calamities,  and  the  constant 
threat  of  their  recurrence,  haunt  the  lives  of  our 
Continental  brethren.  Madame  Suttner's  vivid  pages 
will  enable  those  of  us  who  have  not  seen  anything  of 

333724 


Tl  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ▲KMtt. 

the  ravages  of  war,  or  felt  the  griefs  and  anxieties  of 
non-combatants,  to  realise  the  state  in  which  people 
live  on  the  Continent  of  Europe,  under  the  grim 
"shadow  of  the  sword,"  with  constantly  increasing 
demands  on  the  treasure  accumulated  by  their  labour, 
and  on  their  still  dearer  treasure — their  children — drawn 
into  the  ravenous  maw  of  the  Conscription,  to  meet 
the  ever-increasing  demands  of  war,  which  seems  daily 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  in  spite  of  the  protestations 
made  by  every  Government  of  its  anxiety  for  peace. 

What  can  we  expect  to  change  this  terrible  condition 
except  the  formation  of  a  healthy  public  opinion  ?  And 
what  can  more  powerfully  contribute  to  its  formation 
than  a  clear  conception  both  of  the  horrors  and  suffer- 
ings that  have  attended  the  great  wars  waged  in  our 
times,  and  also  of  the  inadequacy  of  the  reasons,  at 
least  the  ostensible  reasons,  for  their  commencement, 
and  the  ease  with  which  they  might  have  been  avoided, 
if  their  reasons  had  been  indeed  their  causes  ?  This  work 
appears  to  me  of  especial  value,  as  setting  this  forth 
more  plainly  than  a  formal  treatise  could  do,  and  it  is 
towards  the  formation  of  such  a  public  opinion  that  we 
hope  it  may  contribute.  The  dawn  of  a  better  day  in 
respect  of  war  is  plain  enough  in  our  country.  We 
have  advanced  far  indeed  from  the  state  of  things  that 
existed  a  century  ago,  when  Coleridge  could  indignantly 
say  of  England : — 

*Mid  thy  herds  and  thy  cornfields  secure  thou  hast  stood 
And  joined  the  wild  yelling  of  famine  and  blood  t 

England  since  then  has  given  and  is  giving  many 
gratifying  proofs  of  her  sincere  desire  for  peace,  and 
her  readinew  to  submit  her  claims  to  peaceful  arbitra- 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  Tl] 

tion.  Is  it  too  much  to  hope  that  we  may  sec  our 
country  joining  in  some  well-considered  scheme  for 
general  treaties  of  Arbitration  and  for  the  institution 
of  an  International  Court  ?  And  may  we  not  hope  that 
our  influence,  as  that  of  a  nation  not  implicated  in  the 
mad  race  of  armaments,  and  yet  not  removed  from  the 
area  of  European  war,  may  avail  to  bring  the  question 
of  disarmament  before  an  International  Conference 
and  thus  introduce  the  twentieth  century  into  a  world 
in  which  there  will  be  some  brighter  prospect  than 
that 

War  shall  endless  war  still  breed  ? 

Let  as  trust  that  this  may  not  be  found  quite  an  idle 
dream,  and  that  we  may  without  self-delusion  look 
forward  to  a  more  happy  era,  and  join  the  cry  of 
Baroness  Suttner's  Rudolf— "  Es  lebe  die  Zikunft". 

Hail  to  thb  Future  I 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

The  rapid  sale  of  the  first  edition  of  this  translation  has 
encouraged  the  Association  at  whose  request  it  was 
made  to  endeavour  to  make  it  more  widely  known  to 
the  various  English-speaking  populations,  by  printing  a 
larger  edition  at  a  lower  price.  It  is  hoped,  also,  that  the 
enlarged  circulation  of  a  work  so  graphic,  and  written 
by  one  who  has  so  thoroughly  studied  the  real  aspects 
of  war,  as  seen  by  those  on  the  spot,  may  lead  not  so 
much  to  sentimental  emotions  and  vague  protests,  as  to 
a  business-like  discussion  of  the  means  by  which  the 
resort  to  war  may  be  at  any  rate  rendered  more  and 
more  infrequent.  The  English  Government  has  lately 
given  repeated  and  practical  proofs  of  its  sincere  desire 
to  substitute  the  peaceful  and  rational  method  of  arbi- 
tration for  the  rough,  cruel,  and  uncertain  decision  of 
force;  and  the  conspicuous  success  of  that  method 
hitherto — though  tried  under  circumstances  not  al- 
together favourable — must  have  prepared  thinking  men 
for  the  question :  "  Why  cannot  some  scheme  for  the 
formation  of  an  International  Tribunal  of  Arbitration  be 
formed  and  debated  among  the  Powers  who,  by  taking 
part  in  the  Congress  at  Paris  after  the  Crimean  War, 
formally  admitted  the  principle,  and  who  have  already 
seen  it  successfully  applied  in  practice "  ?  To  this 
question,  which  has  been  frequently  asked,  no  satisfactory 


X  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

answer  has  yet  been  given,  nor  to  the  farther  question 
why  our  Government  should  not  introduce  the  subject  to 
the  great  Powers,  after  showing  so  unmistakably  its  ad- 
herence to  the  principle.  People  differ,  and,  probably, 
will  always  differ,  as  to  the  light  in  which  they  regard 
war.  A  very  small  and  rapidly  diminishing  minority 
regard  it  as  a  good  thing  in  itself — most  as  an  evil 
which  in  our  present  stage  of  civilisation  cannot  always 
b^  avoided ;  some  as  a  crime  formally  prohibited  by  the 
moral  law  and  the  Christian  religion.  All  of  the  two 
latter  classes  ought  to  join  in  any  practical  steps  for 
diminishing  the  occasions  of  war ;  and  of  these  the  one 
which  is  most  within  the  scope  of  politicians  is  the  pro- 
motion of  International  Arbitration.  The  Association 
to  which  I  belong  has  published  this  work  in  the  confi- 
dent hope  that  its  circulation  will  aid  in  hastening  this 
much-needed  reform. 

THE  TRANSLATOR, 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAGB 

Girlish  days.     My  first  marriage  and  birth  of  my  first  child.     My 

husband  summoned  to  the  Italian  war  of  1859  •        •        •        .        i 

CHAPTER  n. 
Period  of  war.     A  wife's  anxieties.     Terrible  news  .        •        •        .       i| 

CHAPTER  HI. 
Years  of  widowhood.     Re-entry  into  society.     Introduction  to  Baron 

Tilling.     Manner  of  my  husband's  death 40 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Progress  of  my  firiendship  for  Tilling.    His  mother's  death.    Growth 

of  love •••••59 

CHAPTER  V. 
Doubts  and  fears.     Engagement  to  Tilling      •        •        •        •        .      84 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Marriage  and  garrison  life.     Outbreak  of  the  Schleswig-Holstein 

war.    History  of  its  causes 116 

CHAPTER  VIL 
My  husband  ordered  off  to  the  war.     Premature  confinanent  and 

deadly  peril.     Letters  firom  the  seat  of  war       •        •        .        •    X41 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Re-union.    Financial  ruin •    164 

CHAPTER  IX  ^ 

/Approach  of  the  Anstro- Prussian  war.     The  preliminaries  to  it 

War  declared 187 


Zn  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

VAGB 

Early  period  of  the  war    •••••«•«.    S15 

CHAPTER  XI. 
War -sketches  by  a  soldier  who  abhors  war       •       •       •       .       •    131 

CHAPTER  XII. 
After  Kdniggratz.     My  experiences  in  a  journey  over  the  Bohemian 

battlefields  in  search  of  my  husband  ••••••    245 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Prussian  advance  on  Vienna.     Life  at  Grumits       •       •       •       •    283 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Festivities  at  Grumitz,  followed  by  an  outbreak  of  cholera  which 

sweeps  off  nearly  the  whole  family    ......    303 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Period  of  mourning.     Discussion  with  a  military  chaplain.    Death 

of  Aunt  Mary •        •        •        •    327 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Threat  of  war  between  France  and  Prussia.    Arbitration.    Life  in 
Paris  during  the  exhibition  of  1868  and  afterwards  in  1870. 
Birth  of  a  daughter    ....•.•••    356 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Approach  of  war  between  France  and  Prussia.    We  linger  in  Paris. 

War  breaks  out  •        •        • 380 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

;The   Franco-German   war.     Departure  from   Paris    prevented  by 
illness.    Siege  of  Paris.    My  husband  shot  by  the  Communards    396 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  end.    "  Hail  to  the  future  1 '*     •••»•••    420 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS, 


CHAPTER  r. 

Girlish  days  and  girlish  fancies, —  Youthful  enthusiasm  for 
war, — Education, — "  Coming  outj^ — An  important  visit 
to  Marienbad, — Love  at  first  sight, — Marriage, — A  first 
child, — The  baby-soldier, — Threatenings  of  war, — Decla- 
ration of  war  with  Sardinia* — My  husband  is  to  see  active 
service. 

At  seventeen  I  was  a  thoroughly  overwrought  creature.  This 
perhaps  I  should  no  longer  be  aware  of  to-day,  if  it  were 
not  that  my  diaries  have  been  preserved.  But  in  them  the 
enthusiasms  long  since  fled,  the  thoughts  which  have  never 
been  thought  again,  the  feelings  never  again  felt  have  im- 
mortalised themselves,  and  thus  I  can  judge  at  this  present 
time  what  exalted  notions  had  stuck  in  my  silly,  pretty  head. 
Even  this  prettiness,  of  which  my  glass  has  now  little  left  to 
say,  is  revealed  to  me  by  the  portraits  of  long  ago.  I  can  figure 
to  myself  what  an  envied  person  the  Countess  Martha  Althaus 
— youthful,  thought  beautiful,  and  surrounded  by  all  kinds  of 
luxury — must  have  been.  These  remarkable  diaries,  however, 
bound  in  their  red  covers,  point  more  to  melancholy  than  to  joy 
in  life.  The  question  I  now  ask  myself  is.  Was  I  really  so  silly 
as  not  to  recognise  the  advantages  of  my  position  or  was  I 
only  so  enthusiastic  as  to  believe  that  only  melancholy  feelings 

I 


2  LAY    DpWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

were  elevated  and  worthy  of  being  expressed  in  poetical  form 
and  as  such  enrolled  in  the  red  volumes  ?  My  lot  seems  not 
to  have  contented  me — for  thus  is  it  written  : — 

"  O  Joan  of  Arc !  heroic  virgin  favoured  of  heaven  !  could 
I  be  like  to  thee — to  wave  the  oriflamme,  to  crown  my  king, 
and  then  die — for  the  fatherland,  the  beloved  !  " 

No  opportunity  offered  itself  to  me  of  realising  these  modest 
views  of  life.  Again,  to  be  torn  to  pieces  in  the  circus  by  a  lion 
as  a  Christian  martyr,  another  vocation  for  which  I  longed — 
see  entry  of  September  19,  1853 — was  not  to  be  compassed  by 
me,  and  so  I  had  plainly  to  suffer  under  the  consciousness 
that  the  great  deeds  after  which  my  soul  thirsted  must  remain 
ever  unaccomplished,  that  my  life,  considered  fundamentally, 
was  a  failure.  Ah !  why  had  I  not  come  into  the  world  as  a 
boy?  (another  fruitless  reproach  against  destiny  which  often 
found  expression  in  the  red  volumes);  in  that  case  I  would 
have  been  able  to  strive  after  and  to  achieve  "  the  exalted  ". 
Of  female  heroism  history  affords  but  few  examples.  How 
seldom  do  we  succeed  in  having  the  Gracchi  for  our  sons,  or 
in  carrying  our  husbands  out  to  the  Weinsberg  Gates,  or  in 
being  saluted  by  sabre-brandishing  Magyars  with  the  shout, 
*'  Hurrah  for  Maria  Theresa  our  king  ".  But  when  one  is  a 
man,  then  one  need  only  gird  on  the  sword  and  start  off  to 
win  fame  and  laurels — win  for  oneself  a  throne  like  Cromwell, 
or  the  empire  of  the  world,  like  Bonaparte.  I  recollect  that  the 
highest  conception  of  human  greatness  seemed  to  me  to  be 
embodied  in  warlike  heroism.  For  scholars,  poets,  explorers, 
I  had  indeed  a  sort  of  respect,  but  only  the  winners  of  battles 
inspired  me  with  real  admiration.  These  were  indeed  the  chief 
pillars  of  history,  the  rulers  of  the  fate  of  countries ;  these 
were  in  importance  and  in  elevation  near  to  the  Divinity, 
as  elevated  above  all  other  folk  as  the  peaks  of  the 
Alps  and  Himalayas  above  the  turf  and  flowers  of  the 
valley. 

From  all  which  I  need  not  conclude  that  I  possessed  a 
heroic  nature.     The  fact  was  simply  that  I  was  capable  of 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  3 

enthusiasm  and  impassioned,  and  so  I  was  of  course  passion- 
ately enthusiastic  for  that  which  was  most  highly  accounted  of 
by  my  school-books  and  my  entourage. 

My  father  was  a  general  in  the  Austrian  army,  and  had 
fought  at  Custozza  under  "  Father  Radetzky,"  whom  he  vene- 
rated to  superstition.  What  eternal  campaigning  stories  had  I  to 
listen  to !  Dear  papa  was  so  proud  of  his  warlike  experiences, 
and  spoke  with  such  satisfaction  of  the  campaigns  in  which  he 
had  fought,  that  I  felt  an  involuntary  pity  for  every  man  who 
possessed  no  such  reminiscences.  But  what  a  drawback  for 
the  female  sex  to  be  excluded  from  this  most  magnificent 
display  of  the  manly  feeling  of  honour  and  duty !  If  anything 
came  to  my  ears  about  the  efforts  of  women  after  equality — 
and  of  this  in  my  youth  but  little  was  heard,  and  then  usually 
in  a  tone  of  contempt  and  condemnation — I  conceived  the 
wish  for  emancipation  only  in  one  direction,  viz.^  that  women 
also  should  have  the  right  to  carry  arms  and  take  the 
field.  Ah,  how  beautiful  was  it  to  read  in  history  about  a 
Semiramis  or  a  Catherine  II.  "She  carried  on  war  with 
this  or  that  neighbouring  state — she  conquered  this  or  that 
country  I " 

(Speaking  generally  it  is  history  which,  as  our  youth  are 
instructed,  is  the  chief  source  of  the  admiration  of  war.  From 
thence  it  is  stamped  on  the  childish  mind  that  the  Lord  of 
armies  is  constantly  decreeing  battles,  that  these  are,  as  it  were, 
the  vehicle  upon  which  the  destiny  of  nations  is  carried  on 
through  the  ages ;  that  they  are  the  fulfilment  of  an  inevitable 
law  of  nature  and  must  always  occur  from  time  to  time  like 
storms  at  sea  or  earthquakes ;  that  terror  and  woe  are  indeed 
connected  vdth  them ;  but  the  latter  is  fully  counterpoised,  for 
the  commonwealth  by  the  importance  of  the  results,  for  indi- 
viduals by  the  blaze  of  glory  which  may  be  won  in  them,  or 
even  by  the  consciousness  of  the  fulfilment  of  the  most  elevated 
duty.  Can  there  be  a  more  glorious  death  than  that  on  the 
field  of  honour,  a  nobler  immortality  than  that  of  the  hero  ? 
All  this  comes  out  dear  and  unanimous  in  all  school-books  ot 


4  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  AKM8. 

"readings  for  the  use  of  schools,"  where,  besides  the  formal 
history,  which  is  only  represented  as  a  concatenation  of  military 
events,  even  the  separate  tales  and  poems  always  manage  to  tell 
only  of  heroic  deeds  of  arms.  This  is  a  part  of  the  patriotic 
system  of  education.  Since  out  of  every  scholar  a  ^efender  of 
his  country  has  to  be  formed,  therefore  the  enthusiasm  even  of 
the  child  must  be  aroused  for  this  its  firstwduty  as  a  citizen;  his 
spirit  must  be  hardened  against  the  natural  horror  which  the 
terrors  of  war  might  awaken,  by  passing  over  as  quickly  as 
possible  the  story  of  the  most  fearful  massacres  and  butcheries 
as  of  something  quite  common  and  necessary,  and  laying  mean- 
while all  possible  stress  on  the  ideal  side  of  this  ancient  national 
custom ;  and  it  is  in  this  way  they  have  succeeded  in  forming 
a  race  eager  for  battle  and  delighting  in  war.  jf    p  c^l  cr- 

The  girls — who  indeed  are  not  to  take  tne  field — are  edu- 
cated out  of  the  same  books  as  are  prepared  for  the  military 
training  of  the  boys,  and  so  in  the  female  youth  arises  the  same 
conception  which  exhausts  itself  in  envy  that  they  have  nothing 
to  do  with  war  and  in  admiration  for  the  military  class.  What 
pictures  of  horror  out  of  all  the  battles  on  earth,  from  the  Biblical 
and  Macedonian  and  Punic  Wars  down  to  the  Thirty  Years*  War 
and  the  wars  of  Napoleon,  were  brought  before  us  tender  maidens, 
who  in  all  other  things  were  formed  to  be  gentle  and  mild ;  how 
we  saw  there  cities  burnt  and  the  inhabitants  put  to  the  sword 
and  the  conquered  trodden  down — and  all  this  was  a  real  enjoy- 
ment; and  of  coursathrough  this  heaping  up  and  repetition  of  the 
horrors  the  perception  that  they  were  horrors  becomes  blunted, 
everything  which  belongs  to  the  category  of  war  comes  no  longer 
to  be  regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  humanity,  and  receives 
a  perfectly  peculiar  mystico-historico-political  consecration.  War 
must  be — it  is  the  source  of  the  highest  dignities  and  honours) 
— that  the  girls  see  very  well,  and  they  have  had  also  to  learn 
by  heart  the  poems  and  tirades  in  which  war  is  magnified. 
And  thus  originate  the  Spartan  mothers,  and  the  "  mothers  of 
the  colours,"  and  the  frequent  invitations  to  the  cotillon  which 
are  given  to  a  corps  of  officers  when  it  is  the  turn  of  the  ladies 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  5 

to  choose  partners.^  I  was  not  like  so  many  of  my  companions 
in  rank  educated  in  a  convent,  but  under  the  direction  of 
governesses  and  masters  in  my  father's  house.  My  mother  I 
lost  early.  Our  aunt,  an  old  canoness,  filled  the  place  of  a 
mother  to  us  children — for  there  were  three  younger  children. 
We  spent  the  winter  months  in  Vienna,  the  summer  on  a  family 
estate  in  Lower  Austria. 

I  can  remember  that  I  gave  my  governesses  and  masters  much 
satisfaction,  for  I  was  an  industrious  and  ambitious  scholar, 
gifted  with  an  accurate  memory.  When  I  could  not,  as  I  have 
remarked,  satisfy  my  ambition  by  winning  battles  like  a  heroine, 
I  contented  myself  with  passing  judgments  on  them  in  my 
lessons,  and  extorting  admiration  by  my  zeal  for  learning.  In 
the  French  and  English  languages  I  was  nearly  perfect.  In 
geology  and  astronomy  I  made  as  much  progress  as  was  ordin- 
arily accessible  in  the  programme  of  the  education  of  a  girl,  but 
ia  the  subject  of  history  I  learned  more  than  was  required  of 
me.  Out  of  the  library  of  my  father  I  fetched  the  ponderous 
works  of  history,  in  which  I  studied  in  my  leisure  hours.  I 
always  thought  myself  a  little  bit  cleverer  when  I  could  enrich 
my  memory  with  an  event,  a  name,  or  a  date  out  of  past  times. 
Against  pianoforte-playing — which  was  put  down  in  the  plan  of 
education — I  made  a  resolute  resistance.  I  possessed  neither 
talent  nor  desire  for  music,  and  felt  that  in  it,  for  me,  no  satisfac- 
tion of  my  ambition  would  be  found.  I  begged  so  long  and 
so  pressingly  that  my  precious  time,  which  I  might  spend  on 
my  other  studies,  should  not  be  shortened  by  this  meaningless 
strumming,  that  my  good  father  let  me  oif  this  musical  servitude, 

'  About  the  "  Damenwahl "  Bishop  Ch.  Wordsworth  in  his  Annals  of 
my  Early  Life,  p.  141,  thus  speaks,  describing  a  ball  at  Greifswald: 
"  As  I  was  standing  among  others  looking  on  at  a  party  of  dancers,  a 
fair  Grcifswaldese,  who  had  been  one  of  them,  came  up  to  me  and  offered 
me  her  hand.  Not  knowing  who  she  was  or  what  she  said  (for  she  spoke 
\n  German),  I  could  only  make  to  her  a  low  bow  and  look  abashed.  It 
was  explained  to  me  afterwards  that  the  cotillon,  which  was  the  dance 
going  on,  allows  any  lady  to  offer  herself  as  a  partner  to  any  gentleman 
whom  she  chooses,  and  that  I  had  declined  a  very  pretty  compliment." 


6  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

to  the  great  grief  of  my  aunt,  whose  opinion  was  that  without 
pianoforte-playing  there  could  be  no  proper  education. 

On  March  lo,  1857,  I  celebrated  my  seventeenth  birthday. 
**  Seventeen  already  I  '*  runs  the  entry  of  that  date  in  my  diary. 
This  "  already  "  is  in  itself  a  poem.  There  is  no  commentary 
added,  but  probably  I  meant  by  it  "  and  as  yet  nothing  done 
for  immortality  ".  These  red  volumes  do  me  excellent  service 
now,  when  I  want  to  recall  the  recollections  of  a  life.  They 
render  it  possible  for  me  to  depict  even  down  to  their  minutest 
details  the  feelings  of  the  past,  which  would  have  remained  in 
my  memory  only  as  faded  outlines,  and  to  reproduce  whole 
trains  of  thought  long  forgotten,  and  long-silent  speeches. 

In  the  following  carnival  I  was  to  be  "  brought  out ".  This 
prospect  delighted  me,  but  not  to  such  an  extraordinary  degree 
as  is  usually  the  case  with  young  girls.  My  spirit  yearned  for 
something  higher  than  the  triumphs  of  the  ballroom.  What 
was  it  I  yearned  for  ?  A  question  that  I  could  have  hardly 
answered  to  myself.  Probably  for  love,  though  I  was  not 
aware  of  it.  All  those  glowing  dreams  of  aspiration  and  am- 
bition which  swell  the  hearts  of  young  men  and  women,  and 
which  long  to  work  themselves  out  all  sorts  of  ways — as  thirst 
for  knowledge,  love  of  travel  or  adventure — ^are  in  reality  for 
the  most  part  only  the  unrecognised  activity  of  the  growing 
instinct  of  love. 

This  summer  my  aunt  was  ordered  a  course  of  the  waters  at 
Marienbad.  She  was  pleased  to  take  me  with  her.  Though 
my  official  introduction  into  the  so-called  "  world  *'  was  not  to 
take  place  till  the  following  winter,  I  was  yet  allowed  to  take 
part  in  some  little  dances  at  the  Kurhaus,  with  an  idea  also  of 
exercising  me  in  dancing  and  conversation,  so  that  I  might  not 
be  altogether  too  shy  and  awkward  in  entering  on  my  first 
carnival  season. 

V  But  what  happened  at  the  first  party  which  I  visited  ?  A 
serious,  vital  love  affair.  It  was  of  course  a  lieutenant  of  hussars. 
The  civilians  in  the  hall  appeared  to  me  like  cockchafers  to 
butterflies  compared  to  the  soldiers.    And  of  the  wearers  oi 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  7 

aniforms  present  the  hussars  were  every  way  the  most  splendid  ; 
and,  finally,  of  all  the  hussars  Count  Arno  Dotzky  was  the 
most  dazzling.  Over  six  feet  high,  with  black  curly  hair, 
twisted  moustaches,  glittering  white  teeth,  dark  eyes,  with  such 
a  penetrating  and  tender  expression — in  fine,  at  his  question, 
**  Have  you  the  cotillon  free,  countess  ?  "  I  felt  that  there  might 
be  other  triumphs  as  exciting  as  the  banner-waving  of  the  Maid 
of  Orleans,  or  the  sceptre-waving  of  the  great  Catherine.  And 
he  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  felt  something  very  similar  as  he 
flew  round  the  room  in  the  waltz  with  the  prettiest  girl  in  the 
hall  (for  one  may  say  so  thirty  years  afterwards) — at  any  rate  he 
was  probably  thinking,  "  To  possess  thee,  thou  sweet  creature, 
would  outweigh  a  field-marshal's  baton  ". 

"Why,  Martha,  Martha,'*  remonstrated  my  aunt,  as  I  sank 
breathless  on  the  seat  at  her  side,  covering  her  head-dress  with 
the  floating  muslins  of  my  robe. 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  auntie,"  said  I,  and  sat  more 
upright.     "  I  could  not  help  it." 

"  I  was  not  finding  fault  with  you  for  that.  My  blame  was 
for  your  behaviour  with  that  hussar.  You  ought  not  to  cling 
so  in  dancing,  and  who  would  ever  look  so  close  into  a  gentle- 
man's eyes  ?  " 

I  blushed  deep.  Had  I  committed  some  unmaidenly 
offence,  and  might  the  Incomparable  have  conceived  a  bad 
idea  of  me  ? 

I  was  relieved  of  this  anxious  doubt  before  the  ball  was  over, 
for  in  the  course  of  the  supper  waltz  the  Incomparable  whis- 
pered to  me :  "  Listen  to  me.  I  cannot  help  it — you  must 
know  it  even  to-day — I  love   you." 

This  sounded  a  little  more  sweet  than  Joan's  famous 
"voices".  However,  while  the  dance  was  going  on  I  could 
not  give  him  any  reply.  He  must  have  seen  this,  for  he  came 
to  a  stop.  We  were  standing  in  an  empty  corner  of  the  room, 
and  could  continue  the  conversation  without  being  overheard 

*'  Speak,  countess ;  what  have  I  to  hope  ?  " 

•*  I  do  not  understand  you,"  was  my  insincere  reply. 


8  LAY  DOWN   TOUR   ARMS. 

"  Perhaps  you  do  not  believe  in  love  at  first  sight  ?  I  myself 
held  it  a  fable  till  now,  but  to-day  I  have  experienced  the  truth 
of  it." 

How  my  heart  beat  I  but  I  was  silent 

"  I  have  leapt  head  over  heels  into  my  fate,**  he  continued. 
"  You  or  no  one  I  Decide  then  for  my  bliss  or  my  death,  for 
without  you  I  neither  can  nor  will  live.     Will  you  be  mine  ?  " 

To  so  direct  a  question  I  was  obliged  to  give  some  reply.  I 
sought  for  some  extremely  diplomatic  phrase  which  without 
cutting  oflf  all  hope  would  sacrifice  nothing  of  my  dignity,  but 
I  got  out  nothing  more  than  a  tremulous  whispered  "  yes  ". 

"  Then  may  I  to-morrow  propose  for  your  hand  to  your  aunt, 
and  write  to  Count  Althaus  ?  " 

"  Yes  "  again,  this  time  a  little  firmer. 
y      "  Oh,  what  happiness  1     So  at  first  sight  you  love  me  too  ?  " 

This  time  I  only  answered  with  my  eyes,  but  they,  I  fancy, 
spoke  the  plainest  "  yes  ". 

On  my  eighteenth  birthday  I  was  married,  after  having  been 
first  introduced  into  society,  and  presented  to  the  empress  on 
my  engagement.  After  our  wedding  we  went  for  a  tour  in 
Italy.  For  this  purpose  Amo  had  got  a  long  leave  of  absence ; 
of  retirement  from  the  military  service  nothing  was  ever  said. 
It  is  true  we  both  possessed  a  tolerable  property,  but  my  hus- 
band loved  his  profession,  and  I  agreed  with  him.  I  was  proud 
of  my  handsome  hussar  officer,  and  looked  forward  with  satis- 
faction to  the  time  when  he  would  rise  to  the  rank  of  major, 
colonel,  even  general.  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  he  might  even 
be  called  to  a  higher  fortune ;  perhaps  he  might  shine  in  the 
glorious  history  of  his  country  as  a  great  military  commander  ! 

That  the  red  volumes  exhibit  a  break  just  during  the  happy 
wedding  time  and  the  honeymoon  is  now  to  me  a  great  grief. 
The  joys  of  those  days  would  indeed  have  been  evaporated,  dis- 
persed, scattered  to  the  winds,  even  if  I  had  entered  them  there, 
but  at  any  rate  a  reflection  of  them  would  have  been  kept  bound 
tight  between  the  leaves.  But  no !  for  my  grief  and  my  pain  I 
could  not  find  complaints  enough— enough  dashes  and  notes  of 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMl.  9 

exclamation.  All  grievous  things  had  to  be  cried  over  carefully 
before  the  world,  present  and  to  come,  but  the  happy  hours  I 
enjoyed  in  silence.  I  was  not  proud  of  my  happiness,  and  so 
gave  no  one,  not  even  myself,  in  my  diary,  any  information  about 
it,  but  sufferings  and  longings  I  looked  on  as  a  kind  of  merit, 
and  so  made  much  of  them.  But  how  true  a  mirror  these  red 
volumes  present  of  my  sad  experiences,  while  in  the  happy 
times  the  leaves  are  quite  blank  1  It  is  too  silly  !  It  is  as  if 
during  a  walk  a  man  were  to  make  a  collection  to  bring  home 
with  him,  and  to  collect  of  all  the  things  he  found  by  the  way 
only  those  that  were  ugly,  as  if  he  filled  his  botanic  case  with 
nothing  but  thorns,  thistles,  worms  and  toads,  and  left  the 
flowers  and  butterflies  behind. 

Still  I  recollect  that  it  was  a  grand  time,  a  kind  of  fairy  dream. 
I  had  indeed  everything  that  the  heart  of  a  young  woman  could 
wish :  love,  wealth,  rank,  fortune,  and  most  of  it  so  new,  so 
surprising,  so  incredible  I  We  loved  each  other — my  Arno  and 
I — devotedly,  with  all  the  fire  of  our  youth,  abounding  as  it  was 
in  life  and  scenes  of  beauty.  And  it  so  happened  that  my  dar- 
ling hussar  was  besides  a  worthy,  good-hearted,  noble-minded 
young  gentleman,  with  the  education  of  a  man  of  the  world  and 
a  cheerful  temper — it  happened  so ;  for  he  might  as  well,  for 
anything  that  the  ball  at  Marienbad  could  testify  to  the  contrary, 
have  been  a  vicious,  rough  man — and  as  it  happened  also  I  was 
a  moderately  sensible,  good-hearted  creature;  for  he  might 
just  as  well  at  the  said  ball  have  fallen  in  love  with  a  pretty 
capricious,  little  goose.  And  so  it  came  about  that  we  were 
completely  happy,  and  that  as  a  consequence  the  red-bound 
book  of  lamentation  remained  empty  for  a  long  while. 

Stop;  here  I  do  find  a  joyous  entry — Raptures  over  the  new 
dignity  of  motherhood.  On  the  ist  of  January,  1859  (was  not 
that  a  new-year's  gift  ?),  a  little  son  was  born  to  us.  Of  course 
this  event  awakened  in  us  as  much  astonishment  and  pride  as 
if  we  were  the  first  pair  to  which  anything  of  the  kind  had  hap- 
pened ;  and  this  accounts  also  for  the  resumption  of  the  diary 
Of  this  wonder,  and  of  this  dignity  of  mine,  the  world  of  the 


XO  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

future  had  to  be  informed.  Besides,  the  theme  "youthful 
motherhood  "  is  so  extremely  well  adapted  for  art  and  literature. 
It  belongs  to  the  class  of  the  best  sung  and  most  carefully 
painted  subjects;  besides,  it  may  be  treated  mystically  and 
sacredly,  touchingly  and  pathetically,  simply  and  affectionately — 
in  short,  immensely  poetically.  To  nurse  this  disposition  all 
possible  collections  of  poems,  illustrated  journals,  picture  gal- 
leries, and  current  phrases  of  rapture,  such  as  "  mother's  love," 
"  mother's  happiness,"  "  mother's  pride,"  contribute  their  power, 
just  as  the  ^hool-books  do  to  nurse  the  admiration  for  war. 
The  highest  pitch  of  deification  which  has  been  reached  next 
to  the  adoration  of  heroes  (see  Carlyle's  Hero  Worship)  is 
reached  by  the  multitude  in  "  baby  worship  " ;  and  of  course  in 
this  also  I  was  not  left  behind.  My  little  charming  Ruru  was 
to  me  the  mightiest  wonder  of  the  world.  Ah,  my  son !  my 
grown-up,  stately  Rudolf,  what  I  feel  for  you  is  such  that 
against  it  that  childish  baby-wonder  loses  colour,  against  it 
that  blind,  apish,  devouring  love  of  the  young  mother  is  as 
insignificant  as  the  child  himself  in  swaddling  clothes  is 
insignificant  by  the  side  of  the  grown  man. 

The  young  father  was  not  less  proud  of  his  successor,  and 
built  on  him  the  fairest  schemes  for  the  future.  "  What  will  he 
be  ?  "  This  question,  not  as  yet  a  very  pressing  one,  was  never- 
theless often  discussed  over  Rum's  cradle  and  always  decided 
unanimously — a  soldier.  Sometimes  it  awoke  a  weak  protest 
on  the  mother's  part.  "  But  suppose  he  should  meet  with  any 
accident  in  a  war?"  "Ah,  bahl"  was  the  answer  to  this 
objection,  "  every  one  must  die  when  and  where  it  is  appointed 
him."  Ruru  was  also  not  to  remain  the  only  son ;  of  the  fol- 
lowing sons  one  might,  please  God,  be  brought  up  as  a  diploma- 
tist, another  as  a  country  gentleman,  a  third  as  a  priest ;  but 
the  eldest,  he  must  choose  his  father's  and  grandfather's  pro 
fession — the  noblest  profession  of  all.     He  must  be  a  soldier. 

And  so  it  was  settled.  Ruru,  as  soon  as  he  was  two  months 
old,  was  promoted  by  us  to  be  lance-corporal.*  Well,  as  aU 
1  «*  Gefreite  " — a  soldier  exempted  from  sentinel  datj. 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  XX 

crown  princes  immediately  they  are  bom  are  named  "pro- 
prietors" of  some  regiment,  why  should  not  we  also  decorate  our 
little  one  with  an  imaginary  rank  ?  It  was  only  a  regular  joke 
this  playing  at  soldiers  with  our  baby. 

On  April  i,  as  the  third  monthly  recurrence  of  his  birthday 
(for  to  keep  only  the  anniversaries  would  have  given  too  few 
opportunities  for  festivity),  Rum  was  promoted  from  lance- 
corporal  to  corporal.  But  on  the  same  day  there  happened 
also  something  more  mournful — something  that  made  my 
heart  heavy,  and  obliged  me  to  relieve  it  into  the  red 
volumes. 

There  had  been  now  for  a  long  time  a  certain  black  point 
visible  on  the  political  horizon,  about  the  possible  increase  of 
which  the  liveliest  commentaries  were  made  in  all  journals  and 
at  all  private  parties.  I  had  up  to  that  time  thought  nothipg 
about  it.  My  husband  and  my  father  and  their  military 
friends  might  have  often  said  in  my  hearing,  "  There  will  soon 
be  something  to  settle  with  Italy,"  but  it  glanced  off  my  under- 
standing. I  had  little  time  or  inclination  to  trouble  myself 
about  politics.  So  that  however  eagerly  people  about  me  might 
debate  about  the  relations  between  Sardinia  and  Austria,  or  the 
behaviour  of  Napoleon  III.,  of  whose  help  Cavour  had  assured 
himself  by  taking  part  in  the  Crimean  War,  or  however  con- 
stantly they  might  talk  about  the  tension  which  this  alliance 
had  called  forth  between  us  and  our  Italian  neighbours,  I  took 
no  notice  of  it 

But  on  April  i  my  husband  said  to  me  very  seriously : — 

"  Do  you  know,  dear,  that  it  will  soon  break  out  ?  ** 

"  What  will  break  out,  darling  ?  " 

"  The  war  with  Sardinia." 

I  was  terrified.  "  My  God !  that  would  be  terrible  I  And  will 
you  have  to  go  ?  ** 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  How  can  you  say  such  a  thing  ?  Hope  to  leave  your  wife 
and  child!" 

"  If  duty  calls." 


19  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

*•  One  might  reconcile  oneself  to  it ;  but  to  hope — which 
means  wish— that  such  a  bitter  duty  should  arise  ! " 

*'  Bitter  I  A  rattling  jolly  war  like  that  must  be  something 
glorious !     You  are  a  soldier's  wife ;  don't  forget  that." 

I  fell  on  his  neck.  "  O  my  dear  husband,  be  content  I 
also  can  be  brave  !  How  often  have  I  sympathised  with  the 
heroes  and  heroines  of  history  I  What  an  elevating  feeling  it 
must  be  to  go  into  battle!  If  I  only  might  fight,  fall,  or 
conquer  at  your  side ! " 

"  Bravely  spoken,  little  wife,  but  nonsense !  Your  place  is 
here,  by  the  cradle  of  the  little  one,  who  also  is  to  become  a 
defender  of  his  country  when  he  is  grown  up.  Your  place  is  at 
our  household  hearth.  It  is  to  protect  this,  and  guard  it  from 
any  hostile  attack,  to  preserve  peace  for  our  homes  and  our 
wjves,  that  we  men  have  to  go  to  battle." 

I  don*t  know  why,  but  these  words,  which,  or  something  of  the 
same  sort,  I  had  often  before  heard  and  read  with  assent,  this 
time  seemed  to  me  to  be  in  a  sense  mere  "  phrases  "'.  There  was 
certainly  no  hearth  menaced,  no  horde  of  barbarians  at  the 
gate,  merely  a  political  tension  between  two  cabinets.  So,  if 
my  husband  was  all  on  fire  to  rush  into  the  war,  it  was  not  so 
much  from  the  pressing  need  of  defending  his  wife,  child,  and 
country,  but  much  rather  his  delight  in  the  march  out,  which 
promised  change  and  adventure— his  seeking  for  distinction 
and  promotion.  "  Oh,  yes,"  was  my  conclusion  from  this  train 
of  thought,  "it  is  ambition — a  noble,  honourable  ambition 
— delight  in  the  brave  discharge  of  duty." 
1^  It  was  good  of  him  that  he  was  rejoicing  in  the  chance  of 
being  obliged  to  take  the  field — for  as  yet  there  was  assuredly 
no  certainty.  Perhaps  the  war  might  not  break  out  at  all,  and 
even  in  case  they  came  to  blows,  who  knows  whether  it  would 
be  Arno's  fate  to  be  sent  off? — the  whole  army  does  not  always 
see  the  enemy.  No,  this  splendid,  perfect  happiness  which 
fate  had  just  built  as  a  snug  house  for  me,  it  was  impossible 
that  the  same  fate  should  roughly  shatter  it  to  pieces  !  "  O 
Arno,  my  dearly-loved  husband  I  it  would  be  horrible  to  know 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I3 

that  you  are  in  danger  I  **  These  and  similar  outpourings  fill 
the  leaves  of  the  diary  which  were  written  in  those  days. 

From  this  period  the  red  volumes  are  full  for  some  time 
of  political  stuff.  Louis  Napoleon  is  an  intriguer ;  Austria 
cannot  long  be  only  a  spectator.  It  is  coming  to  war.  Sar- 
dinia will  be  frightened  at  our  superior  power,  and  give  in. 
Peace  is  going  to  be  maintained.  My  wishes,  despite  of  all 
theoretical  admiration  of  the  battles  of  the  past,  were,  of  course, 
secretly  directed  to  the  preservation  of  peace,  but  the  wish  of 
my  spouse  called  openly  for  the  other  alternative.  He  did  not 
say  anything  out  plainly,  but  he  always  communicated  any 
news  about  the  increase  of  "the  black  spot"  with  sparkling 
eyes ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  he  always  took  note  of  such 
peaceful  prospects  as  occurred  now  and  then  (but,  alas !  they 
became  always  rarer)  with  a  kind  of  dejection. 

My  father,  also,  was  all  on  fire  for  the  war.  To  conquer  the 
Piedmontese  would  be  only  child's  play;  and,  in  support  of 
this  assertion,  the  Radetzky  anecdotes  were  poured  out  again. 
I  heard  the  impending  campaign  talked  about  always  from  the 
strategic  point  of  view — i.e.,  a  balancing  of  the  chances  on  the 
two  sides ;  how  and  where  the  enemy  would  be  routed,  and 
the  advantages  which  would  thereby  accrue  to  "us".  The 
humane  point  of  view,  viz.,  that  whether  lost  or  won  every 
battle  demands  innumerable  sacrifices  of  blood  and  tears,  was 
quite  left  out  of  sight.  The  interests  which  were  here  in 
question  were  represented  as  raised  to  such  a  height  above  any 
private  destiny,  that  I  felt  ashamed  of  the  meanness  of  my  way 
of  thinking,  if  at  times  the  thought  occurred  to  me :  *'  Ah  ! 
what  joy  do  the  poor  slain  men,  the  poor  cripples,  the  poor 
widows,  get  out  of  the  victory  ?  "  However,  very  soon  the  old 
school-book  dithyrambs  came  in  again  for  an  answer  to  all 
these  despairing  questionings :  "  Glory  offers  recompense  for 
all  ".  Still — suppose  the  enemy  wins  ?  This  question  I  pro- 
pounded in  the  circle  of  my  military  friends,  but  was  igno- 
miniously  hissed  down.  The  mere  mention  of  the  possibility 
of  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  is  in  itself  unpatriotic.     To  be  certain 


14  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

beforehand  of  one's  invincibility  is  a  part  of  a  soldier's  duties ; 
and,  therefore,  in  her  degree,  of  those  of  a  loyal  wife  of  a 
lieutenant. 

My  husband's  regiment  was  quartered  in  Vienna.  From  our 
housie  there  was  a  view  over  the  Prater,  and  from  the  window 
there  was  such  a  lovely  promise  of  summer  over  everything. 
It  was  a  wonderful  spring.  The  air  was  warm  and  redolent 
of  violets,  and  the  fresh  foliage  sprouted  out  more  early  than 
in  other  years.  I  was  amusing  myself  without  any  anxiety 
over  the  great  processions  in  the  Prater  which  were  planned 
for  the  following  month.  We  had,  for  this  purpose,  procured 
a  tasty  little  equipage — a  brake  with  a  four-in-hand  team  of 
Hungarian  horses.  Even  already,  in  this  splendid  April 
weather,  we  kept  driving  almost  daily  in  the  alleys  of  the 
Prater — but  that  was  only  a  foretaste  of  the  pleasure  peculiar 
to  May.  Ah !  if  the  war  had  not  broken  in  on  all 
that ! 

"  Now,  thank  God,  at  last  this  uncertainty  is  at  an  end," 
cried  my  husband  one  morning — April  19 — on  coming  home 
from  parade.     "  The  ultimatum  has  been  sent." 

I  shrieked  out :  "  Eh,  what  ?    What  does  that  mean  ?  " 

"  It  means  that  the  last  word  of  the  diplomatic  formalities, 
the  one  which  precedes  the  declaration  of  war,  has  been  spoken. 
Our  ultimatum  to  Sardinia  calls  on  Sardinia  to  disarm.  She, 
of  course,  will  take  no  notice  of  it,  and  we  march  across  the 
frontier." 

"  Good  God !  But  perhaps  they  may  disarm  ?  " 

"Well,  then,  the  quarrel  would  be  at  an  end,  and  peace 
would  continue." 

I  fell  on  my  knees.  I  could  not  help  it.  Silently,  but 
still  as  earnestly  as  if  with  a  cry,  there  rose  the  prayer  from  my 
soul  to  heaven  for  "  Peace !  peace  I " 

Amo  raised  me  up. 

"  My  silly  child,  what  are  you  doing?" 

I  threw  my  arms  round  his  neck  and  began  to  weep.  It  was 
no  burst  of  pain,  for  the  misfortune  was  certainly  as  yet  not 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  I5 

decided  on ;  but  the  news  had  so  shaken  me  that  my  nerves 
quivered,  and  that  caused  this  flood  of  tears. 

"Martha,  Martha,  you  will  make  me  angry,"  said  Arno, 
reproachfully.  "  Is  this  being  my  brave  little  soldier's  wife  ? 
Do  you  forget  that  you  are  a  general's  daughter,  wife  of  a 
first  lieutenant,  and,"  he  concluded  with  a  smile,  "mother 
of  a  corporal  ?  " 

*'  No,  no,  Arno.  I  do  not  comprehend  myself.  It  was  only 
a  kind  of  seizure.  I  am  really  myself  ardent  for  military  glory. 
But — I  do  not  know  how  it  is — a  little  while  ago  everything  was 
hanging  on  a  single  word,  which  must  by  this  time  have  been 
spoken — *  yes '  or  *  no ' — in  answer  to  this  ultimatum  as  it  is 
called,  and  this  *yes'  or  *no'  is  to  decide  whether  thousands 
must  bleed  and  die — die  in  these  sunny  happy  days  of  spring — 
and  so  it  came  over  me  that  the  word  of  peace  must  come, 
and  I  could  not  help  falling  on  my  knees  in  prayer." 

"  To  inform  the  Almighty  of  the  position  of  affairs,  you  dear 
little  goose ! " 

The  house  bell  rang.  I  dried  my  eyes  at  once.  Who 
could  it  be  so  early  ? 

It  was  my  father.     He  rushed  in  all  in  a  hurry. 

"  Now,  children,"  he  cried,  all  out  of  breath,  throwing  him- 
self into  an  arm-chair.  "  Have  you  heard  the  great  news  ?  The 
ultimatum " 

^  I  have  just  told  my  wife." 

"  Tell  me,  dear  papa,  what  you  think,"  I  asked  anxiously. 
"  Will  that  prevent  the  war  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  an  ultimatum  ever  prevented  a  war. 
It  would  indeed  be  only  prudent  of  this  wretched  rabble  of 
Itah'ans  to  give  in  and  not  expose  themselves  to  a  second 
Novara.  Ah  !  if  good  Father  Radetzky  had  not  died  last  year 
I  believe  he  would,  in  spite  of  his  ninety  years,  have  put 
himself  again  at  the  head  of  his  army,  and,  by  God  !  I  would 
have  marched  along  with  him.  We  two  have,  I  think,  shown 
already  how  to  manage  these  foreign  scum.  But  it  seems  they 
have  not  yet  had  enough  of  it,  the  puppies  1     They  want  a 


l6  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

second  lesson.  All  right.  Our  Lombardo- Venetian  kingdom 
will  get  a  handsome  addition  in  the  Piedmontese  territory,  and 
I  already  look  forward  to  the  entry  of  our  troops  into  Turin." 

"  But,  papa,  you  speak  just  as  if  war  were  already  declared, 
and  you  were  glad  of  it !  But  how  if  Arno  has  to  go  too  ?  " 
And  the  tears  were  already  in  my  eyes  again. 

"  That  he  will  too — the  enviable  young  fellow  I " 

"  But  my  terror !     The  danger " 

"  Eh !  what  ?  Danger  !  *  A  man  may  fight  and  not  be 
slain,'  as  *-he  saying  goes.  I  have  gone  through  more  than 
one  campaign,  thank  God,  and  been  wounded  mere  than  once 
— and  yet  I  am  all  alive,  just  because  it  was  ordained  that  I 
should  live  through  it." 

The  old  fatalist  way  of  talking  I  the  same  as  prevailed  to 
settle  Rum's  choice  of  a  profession — and  which  even  now 
appeared  to  me  again  as  quite  philosophical. 

"  Even  if  it  should  chance  that  my  regiment  is  not  ordered 
out "  Arno  began. 

"Ah,  yes  I"  I  joyfully  broke  in,  "there  is  still  that 
hope." 

*'  In  that  case  I  would  get  exchanged,  if  possible.** 

"Oh,  it  will  be  quite  possible,"  my  father  assured  him. 
"  Hess  is  to  receive  the  command-in-chief  and  he  is  a  good 
friend  of  mine."  My  heart  trembled,  and  yet  I  could  not  help 
admiring  both  the  men.  With  what  a  joyful  equanimity  they 
spoke  of  a  coming  campaign,  as  if  it  were  only  a  question  of 
some  pleasure  trip  that  had  been  arranged.  My  brave  Arno 
was  desirous,  even  if  his  duty  did  not  summon  him,  to  go  and 
meet  the  foe,  and  my  magnanimous  father  thought  that  quite 
simple  and  natural.  I  collected  myself.  Away  with  childish, 
womanish  fear  I  Now  was  the  time  to  show  myself  worthy  of 
this  my  love,  to  raise  my  heart  above  all  egotistic  fears  and 
find  room  for  nothing  but  the  noble  reflection — "my  husband 
is  a  hero  ". 

I  sprang  up  and  stretched  out  both  my  hands  to  him : 
"Arno.  I  am  proud  of  you!" 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  VJ 

He  put  my  hands  to  his  lips,  then  turned  to  papa  and  said, 

with  a  face  radiant  with  joy : — 
"  You  have  brought  the  girl  up  well,  father-in-law  I  * 
Rejected !     The  ultimatum  rejected  !     This  took  place  at 

Turio,  April  a6.    The  die  is  cast  1    Wju:  has  broken  out 


CHAPTER  n. 

Last  hours  with  the  beloved  one* — Public  feeling  in  the  prospect 
of  war, — The  parting, — Employments  of  the  women  at 
home, — Anxieties  over  the  news  from  the  seat  of  war. — 
Ill-success  of  Austria, — Friends  in  trouble, — The  Patriotic 
Aid  Association, —  Visit  to  a  friend, — Dreadful  news. 

For  a  week  I  had  been  prepared  for  the  catastrophe,  and  yet 
its  occurrence  gave  me  a  bitter  blow.  I  threw  myself  sobbing 
on  the  sofa,  and  hid  my  face  in  the  cushion  when  Arno  brought 
me  the  news. 

He  sat  down  by  me,  and  began  gently  to  comfort  me. 
* "  My  darling !  Courage !  Compose  yourself  I  It  is  not  so 
bad  after  all.  In  a  short  time  we  shall  return  as  conquerors. 
Then  we  two  shall  be  doubly  happy.  Do  not  weep  so — it 
breaks  my  heart.  I  am  almost  sorry  that  I  have  engaged  to  go 
in  any  case.  But,  no ;  just  think,  if  my  comrades  are  forced  to 
go,  with  what  right  could  I  remain  at  home  ?  You  yourself 
would  feel  ashamed  of  me.  No.  I  must  experience  the  bap- 
tism of  fire  some  time,  and  till  that  has  happened  I  do  not 
feel  myself  truly  a  man  or  a  soldier.  Only  think  how  delightful 
if  I  come  back  with  a  third  star  on  my  collar — perhaps  with  the 
cross  on  my  breast" 

I  rested  my  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  kept  on  weeping  the 
more.  But  I  reflected  how  small  such  things  were.  Stars  and 
crosses  seemed  to  be  at  that  moment  only  empty  spangles.  Not 
ten  grand  crosses  on  that  dear  breast  could  offer  me  any  recom- 
pense for  the  terrible  possibility  that  a  ball  might  shatter  it. 

Arno  kissed  me  on  tne  forehead,  put  me  softly  aside,  and 

stood  up. 

(18? 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  I9 

•*  I  must  go  out  now,  my  dear,  to  my  colonel.  Have  your 
cry  out.  When  I  come  back  I  hope  to  find  you  firm  and 
cheerful.  That  is  what  I  have  need  of,  and  not  to  be  shaken 
with  sad  anticipations.  At  such  a  decisive  moment  as  this  my 
own  dear  little  wife  surely  will  do  nothing  to  take  the  heart  out 
of  me  or  damp  my  ardour  for  exploits  ?  Good-bye,  my  treasure." 
And  he  departed. 

I  collected  myself.  His  last  words  were  still  ringing  in  my 
ears.  Yes,  plainly  my  duty  now  was  not  merely  not  to  damp, 
but  as  far  as  possible  to  increase,  his  spirit  and  his  ardour  for 
exploits.  That  is  the  only  way  in  which  we  women  can  exer- 
cise our  patriotism,  in  which  we  can  take  any  share  in  the  glory 
our  husbands  bring  from  the  battlefields.  "Battlefields** — it 
is  surprising  how  this  word  suddenly  presented  itself  to  my 
mind  in  two  radically  different  meanings.  Partly  in  the  accus- 
tomed historical  signification,  so  pathetic,  and  so  calculated  to 
awake  the  highest  admiration ;  partly  in  the  loathsomeness  of 
the  bloody,  brutal  syllable  "  fight ".  Yes,  those  poor  men  who 
were  being  hurried  out  had  to  lie  stricken  down  on  the  field,  with 
their  gaping,  bleeding  wounds,  and  among  them  perhaps — and  a 
loud  shriek  escaped  me  as  the  thought  passed  through  my  mind. 

My  maid  Betty  came  running  in  all  in  a  fright.  "  For 
God's  sake,  my  lady,  what  has  happened  ?  *'  she  asked  trembling. 

I  looked  at  the  girl.  Her  eyes  also  were  red  with  weeping. 
I  guessed ;  she  knew  the  tidings  already,  and  her  lover  was  a 
soldier.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  press  my  sister  in  misfortune  to  my 
heart. 

"  It  is  nothing,  my  child,"  I  said  softly.  **  Those  who  go 
away  will  surely  return." 

**  Ah,  my  gracious  lady,  not  all,"  she  replied,  breaking  out 
anew  into  tears. 

My  aunt  now  came  in,  and  Betty  withdrew. 
y—    "  I  am  come,  Martha,  to  speak  comfort  to  you,"  said  the  old 
lady  as  she  embraced  me,  "and  to  preach  to  you  resignation  in 
this  trial" 

**  So  you  know  it  ?  * 


20  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"  The  whole  city  knows  it,  and  great  joy  prevails,  for  this 
war  is  very  popular." 

"  Joy,  Aunt  Mary  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  among  those  who  see  no  beloved  member  of  their 
families  ordered  out.  I  could  easily  understand  that  you  must 
be  sad,  and  so  I  hastened  here.  Your  papa  will  also  come 
directly,  but  not  to  comfort,  only  to  congratulate.  He  is  quite 
beside  himself  with  joy  that  it  is  to  go  on,  and  looks  on  it  as  a 
noble  chance  for  Arno  to  take  part  in  it.  And  he  is  right  in 
the  main.  For  a  soldier  there  is  nothing  better  than  a  war. 
And  that  is  the  way  you  must  look  at  it,  my  dear  child.  To 
fulfil  the  duty  of  your  calling  is  before  everything.  What  must 
be " 

"Yes,  you  are  right,  aunt;  what  must  be,  what  is  in- 
evitable   " 

"What  is  the  will  of  God  "  put  in  Aunt   Mary  in 

corroboration. 

"  Must  be  borne  with  composure  and  resignation." 

"Bravo,  Martha.  It  is  certain  that  everything  happens  as 
is  before  determined  by  a  wise  and  all-merciful  Providence  in 
His  immutable  counsels.  Every  one's  death-hour  is  fixed  and 
written  down  at  the  hour  of  his  birth.  And  for  our  dear 
warriors  we  will  pray  so  much  and  so  earnestly ! " 

I  did  not  stop  to  debate  more  closely  the  contradiction  that 
lay  between  the  two  assumptions  that  a  fatal  event  was  at  the 
same  time  ordained  and  also  could  be  turned  aside  by  prayer. 
I  was  myself  not  clear  on  the  point,  and  had  from  my  whole 
education  a  vague  impression  that  in  such  sacred  matters  one 
ought  not  to  embark  on  reasonings.  And,  indeed,  if  I  had 
given  voice  to  such  scruples  before  my  aunt  it  would  have 
grievously  shocked  her.  Nothing  could  hurt  her  more  than  for 
people  to  express  National  doubt  on  certain  points.  "  Not  to 
argue  about  it "  is  the  conventional  commandment  in  matters 
mysterious.  As  etiquette  forbids  to  address  questions  to  a 
king,  so  it  is  a  kind  of  impious  breach  of  etiquette  to  want  to 
make  inquiries  or  criticise  about  a   dogma.      "Not  to  argue 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  91 

about  it "  is  also  a  commandment  easily  obeyed,  and  on  this 
occasion  I  followed  it  very  willingly ;  and  so  I  did  not  entei 
into  any  contention  with  my  aunt,  but  on  the  contrary  clung  to 
the  consolation  that  lay  in  the  resort  to  prayer.  Yes,  during 
the  whole  time  my  lord  was  absent,  I  determined  to  beg 
so  earnestly  for  the  protection  of  Heaven,  that  it  should  turn 
aside  every  bullet  in  the  volley  from  Arno.  Turn  them  aside  I 
Whither?  To  the  breast  of  another,  for  whom,  nevertheless, 
prayers  were  also  being  made?  .  .  .  And,  besides,  what  had 
been  demonstrated  to  me  in  my  course  of  physics  about  the 
accurately  computable  and  infallible  effects  of  matter  and  its 
motion  ?  .  .  .  What,  another  doubt  ?    Away  with  it. 

"Yes,  aunt,"  I  said  aloud,  in  order  to  break  short  these  con- 
tradictions that  kept  crossing  each  other  in  my  mind.  "  Yes, 
we  will  pray  continually  and  God  will  hear  us.  Arno  will  keep 
unhurt." 

"  You  see — you  see,  dear  child,  how  in  heavy  times  the  soul 
still  flies  to  religion.  .  .  .  Perhaps  the  Almighty  sends  you 
this  trial  in  order  that  you  may  lay  aside  your  former  luke- 
warmness." 

This  again  did  not  strike  me  as  correct.  That  the  whole 
misunderstanding  between  Austria  and  Sardinia,  dating  even 
from  the  Crimean  War,  all  the  negotiations,  the  despatch  of  the 
ultimatum  and  its  rejection,  could  have  been  ordained  by  God, 
in  order  to  warm  up  my  lukewarm  spirit ! 

But  to  express  this  doubt  would  also  have  been  a  breach  of 
propriety.  As  soon  as  any  one  introduces  the  name  of  the 
Almighty,  the  claims  connected  with  that  name  give  him  a 
kind  of  spiritual  immunity.  But  with  regard  to  the  charge  of 
lukewarmness,  it  had  some  foundation.  My  aunt's  religious 
feeling  came  from  the  depths  of  her  heart,  while  my  piety  was 
more  external.  My  father  was  in  this  respect  quite  indifferent, 
and  so  was  my  husband ;  and  so  I  had  had  no  stimulus  from 
either  the  one  or  the  other  to  any  particular  zeal  of  belief.  I 
had  never  had  any  means  either  of  plunging  deeply  into 
tcclesiastical  learning,  since  I  had  always  been  able  to  leav9 


22  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

such  things  unattacked  on  the  "  not-argue-about-them  "  principle 
True,  I  went  every  week  to  mass  and  every  year  to  confession, 
and  attended  these  services  with  much  reverence  and  devotion  j 
but  the  whole  thing  was  still  more  or  less  an  observance  of  the 
etiquette  becoming  to  my  position :  I  fulfilled  my  religious 
duties  with  the  same  correctness  as  I  went  through  the  figures 
of  the  Lancers  at  the  state  ball  and  made  the  state  courtesy 
when  the  empress  came  into  the  room.  Our  chaplain  at  the 
chiteau  in  Lower  Austria  and  the  nuntio  in  Vienna  could  have 
nothing  to  say  against  me — yet  the  charge  which  my  aunt 
brought  against  me  was  perfectly  justified. 

"  Yes,  my  child,"  she  went  on,  "  in  prosperity  and  happiness 
people  easily  forget  their  home  above ;  but  if  sickness  or  fear 
of  death  breaks  in  on  us — or,  still  more,  on  those  we  love — if  we 
are  stricken  down  or  in  sorrow " 

She  would  have  gone  on  in  this  style  for  a  long  time,  but  the 
door  burst  open,  and  my  father  rushed  in. 

*'  Hurrah,  it's  begun  now,"  was  his  joyful  greeting  to  us. 
"  They  wanted  a  whipping,  these  puppies,  did  they  ?  And  a 
whipping  they  shall  have — that  they  shall  I  " 

It  was  a  time  of  excitement  The  war  "  has  broken  out ". 
People  forget  that  it  is  really  two  masses  of  men  who  are  rush- 
ing to  fight  each  other,  and  conceive  of  the  event  as  if  it  was 
some  exalted  overruling  third  power,  whose  outbreak  compels 
these  two  masses  into  the  fight.  The  whole  responsibility  falls 
on  this  power,  lying  beyond  the  wills  of  individuals,  and  which 
on  its  side  merely  produces  the  fulfilment  of  the  destined  fate 
of  the  nations.  Such  is  the  dark  and  awful  conception  which 
the  majority  of  mankind  have  of  war,  and  which  was  mine  too. 
There  was  no  question  of  my  feeling  any  revolt  against  making 
war  in  general.  What  I  suffered  from  was  only  that  my 
beloved  husband  had  to  go  out  into  the  danger  and  I  to  stay 
behind  in  anxiety  and  solitude.  I  rummaged  up  all  my  old 
impressions  from  the  days  of  my  historical  studies,  in  order  to 
strengthen  and  inspire  me  with  the  conviction  that  it  was  the 


LAT  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  «3 

highest  of  human  duties  which  called  my  dear  one  away,  and 
that  thereby  the  possibility  was  offered  to  him  of  covering  him- 
self with  glory  and  honour.  Now  at  any  rate  I  was  living  in 
the  midst  of  an  epoch  of  history,  and  this  again  was  a  peculiarly 
elevating  thought  Since  from  Herodotus  and  Tacitus,  down 
to  the  historians  of  modern  times,  wars  have  always  been  repre- 
sented as  the  events  of  most  importance  and  of  weightiest 
consequence,  I  concluded  that  at  the  present  time  also  a  war 
of  this  sort  would  pass  with  future  historians  as  an  event  to 
serve  for  the  title  of  a  chapter. 

This  elevated  tone,  overpowering  in  its  impressiveness,  was 
that  which  prevailed  everywhere  else.  Nothing  else  was  spoken 
of  in  rooms  or  streets,  nothing  else  read  in  the  newspapers, 
nothing  else  prayed  about  in  the  churches.  Wherever  one  went 
one  found  everywhere  the  same  excited  faces,  the  same  eager 
talk  about  the  possibilities  of  the  war.  Everything  else  which 
engaged  the  people's  interest  at  other  times — the  theatre,  busi- 
ness, art — was  now  looked  on  as  perfectly  insignificant.  It 
seemed  to  one  as  if  it  were  not  right  to  think  of  anything  else 
whilst  the  opening  scene  in  this  great  drama  of  the  destiny  of 
the  world  was  being  played  out.  And  the  different  orders  to 
the  army  with  the  well-known  phrases  of  the  certainty  of  vic- 
tory and  promise  of  glory ;  and  the  troops  marching  out  with 
clanging  music  and  waving  banners ;  and  the  leading  articles 
and  public  speeches  conceived  in  the  most  glowing  tone  of 
loyalty  and  patriotism ;  the  eternal  appeal  to  virtue,  honour, 
duty,  courage,  self-sacrifice ;  the  assurances  made  on  both  sides 
that  their  nation  was  known  to  be  the  most  invincible,  most 
courageous,  most  certainly  destined  to  a  higher  extension  of 
power,  the  best  and  the  noblest — all  this  spread  around  an 
atmosphere  of  heroism,  which  filled  the  whole  population  with 
pride  and  called  out  in  each  individual  the  belief  that  he  was  a 
great  citizen  in  a  great  state. 

Such  bad  qualities,  however,  as  these — lust  of  conquest,  love 
of  fighting,  hatred,  cruelty,  guile,  were  also  certainly  to  be 
found,  and  were  admitted  to  be  shown  in  war,  but  always  by 


24  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

"the  enemy".  To  him,  his  being  in  the  wrong  was  quite 
clear.  Quite  apart  from  the  political  necessity  of  the  campaign 
just  commenced,  apart  also  from  the  patriotic  advantages  which 
undoubtedly  grew  out  of  it,  the  conquest  over  one's  adversary 
was  a  moral  work,  a  discipline  carried  out  by  the  genius  of  cul- 
ture. These  Italians  I  what  a  foul,  false,  sensual,  light-minded, 
conceited  people  I  And  this  Louis  Napoleon  1  what  a  mixture  of 
ambition  and  the  spirit  of  intrigue  I  When  his  proclamation  of 
war,  published  on  April  29,  appeared  with  its  motto,  "  Italy  free  to 
the  Adriatic  Sea,*'  it  called  out  amongst  us  a  storm  of  indignation. 
I  did  allow  myself  a  feeble  remark  that  this  was  at  least  an  un- 
selfish and  noble  idea,  which  must  have  an  inspiriting  influence 
on  Italian  patriots,  but  I  was  soon  put  to  silence.  The  dogma 
that  **  Louis  Napoleon  is  a  scoundrel  **  was  not  to  be  shaken 
as  long  as  ke  was  "the  enemy".  Everything  proceeding 
from  him  was  ab  initio  "  scoundrelly  ". 

Another  slight  doubt  arose  in  me.  In  all  the  battle-stories 
of  history  I  had  found  that  the  sympathy  and  admiration 
of  the  relaters  were  always  expressed  for  the  party  who 
wanted  to  free  themselves  from  a  foreign  yoke  and  who  fought 
for  freedom.  It  is  true  that  I  was  not  capable  of  giving  any 
distinct  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  yoke,"  or  of  that 
of  "freedom,"  though  so  abundantly  sung  about;  but  one  thing 
seemed  to  me  perfectly  clear,  viz,^  that  "the  shaking  off  of  the 
yoke"  and  "the  struggle  for  freedom"  lay  this  time  on  the 
side,  not  of  Austria,  but  of  Italy.  But  even  for  these  scruples, 
timidly  conceived  as  they  were,  and  still  more  timidly  ex- 
pressed, I  was  thundered  down.  For,  here  I  was  so  unlucky 
as  again  to  trench  on  a  sacred  principle— namely,  that  our 
government — /.^.,  the  government  under  which  one  happened 
to  have  been  bom — could  never  result  in  a  yoke,  but  only  in  a 
blessing ;  that  any  who  wished  to  tear  themselves  loose  from 
"  us  "  could  not  be  warriors  of  freedom  but  only  simple  rebels  ; 
and  that  generally  and  in  all  circumstances  "  we  "  were  always 
and  everywhere  wholly  in  the  right. 

In  the  early  days  of  May — they  were  luckily  cold  and  rainy 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  ^5 

days — sunny  spring  weather  would  have  made  loo  painful  a 
contrast  —  the  regiment  into  which  Arno  had  exchanged 
marched.     At  seven  in  the  morning 

Ah,  the  preceding  night !  what  a  terrible  night  it  was  I  If 
the  dear  one  had  only  been  going  on  a  journey  of  business,  free 
from  any  danger,  the  parting  would  have  made  me  unspeakably 
sorrowful — parting  is  indeed  so  sad  1  but  to  the  war  I  to  meet 
the  fiery  shower  of  the  enemy's  bullets  I  Why  could  I  no 
longer  on  that  night  apprehend  at  all  in  that  word  "war" 
its  elevated  historical  signification,  but  only  its  terror  and 
threatening  of  death  ? 

Arno  had  fallen  asleep.  He  lay  there  breathing  quietly, 
with  a  cheerful  expression  on  his  features.  I  had  lighted  a 
fresh  candle  and  put  it  behind  a  screen ;  I  could  not  be  in  the 
dark  that  night.  Of  sleep  there  was  no  question  whatever  for 
me  in  that,  the  last,  night.  I  felt  that  I  must  spend  the  whole 
time  in  gazing  at  least  into  the  beloved  face.  I  lay  on  our 
bed  wrapped  in  a  dressing-gown,  and,  with  my  elbow  on  the 
pillow,  and  my  chin  resting  on  the  palm  of  my  hand,  looked 
down  on  the  sleeper  and  wept  silently.  "How  I  love  you, 
how  I  love  you,  my  own  one — and  you  are  going  away  from 
me  I  Why  is  fate  so  cruel  ?  How  shall  I  live  without  you  ? 
O  that  you  may  soon  come  back  to  me !  O  God  1  my  good 
God !  my  merciful  Father  above  1  let  him  come  back  soon — 
him  and  all.  Let  there  soon  be  peace  I  Why  then  cannot 
there  be  peace  always?  We  were  so  happy — perhaps  too 
happy — for  there  cannot  be  any  perfect  happiness  on  earth. 
Oh,  rapture  I  if  he  comes  home  unhurt,  and  then  lies  at  my  side 
as  he  is  doing  now,  and  no  parting  threatened  for  the  morrow ! 
How  quietly  you  are  sleeping,  O  my  dear,  brave  husband ! 
But  how  shall  you  sleep  there  ?  There  there  is  no  soft  bed 
for  you  hung  with  silk  and  lace ;  there  you  must  lie  on  the 
hard  wet  earth — perhaps  in  some  ditch — helpless — wounded  I " 
And  with  this  thought  I  could  not  help  picturing  a  gaping 
sabre-cut  on  his  forehead  with  the  blood  trickling  from  it,  or  a 
bullet-wound  in  his  breast — and  a  hot  pang  of  compassioo 


26  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

seized  me.  How  I  should  have  liked  to  throw  my  arms  round 
him  and  kiss  him — but  I  dared  not  wake  him,  he  wanted  this 
invigorating  sleep.  Not  six  o'clock  yet ! — tick-tack,  tick-tack, 
unpityingly  swift  and  sure  time  marches  on  to  every  mark. 
This  indifferent  tick-tack  distressed  me.  The  light,  too, 
burned  just  as  indifferently  behind  its  screen  as  this  clock 
ticked  with  its  silly,  motionless  Cupid.  .  .  .  Can  it  be  that  all 
these  things  have  no  perception  that  it  is  our  last  night  ?  My 
tearful  lids  fell  together,  my  consciousness  gradually  went  away, 
and  letting  my  head  sink  on  the  pillow,  I  fell  asleep  at  last 
myself.  But  only  for  a  short  time.  Hardly  had  I  lost  my 
sense  in  the  fog  of  some  formless  dream,  when  my  heart 
suddenly  contracted  painfully,  and  I  awoke  with  a  violent 
palpitation,  and  the  same  feeling  of  fear  as  when  one  is 
awakened  by  a  cry  for  help  or  an  alarm  of  fire.  "Parting, 
parting ! "  was  the  alarm  cry.  When  I  had  started  so  out  of 
sleep  for  the  tenth  or  twelfth  time  it  was  day,  and  the  candle 
was  flickering  out.     A  knock  came  at  the  door. 

"Six  o'clock,  lieutenant,"  said  the  orderly,  who  had  been 
ordered  to  wake  him  in  good  time. 

Arno  rose  up.  So  now  the  hour  was  come — now  was  to  be 
spoken  this  sad,  sad  word — '*  Farewell  ". 

It  had  been  settled  that  I  was  not  to  go  to  the  railway  with 
him.  The  one  quarter  of  an  hour  more  or  less  together — that 
was  not  worth  much.  And  the  pain  of  tearing  ourselves 
asunder  at  last !  That  I  did  not  wish  to  show  to  strangers.  I 
wanted  to  be  alone  in  my  room  when  we  exchanged  the  parting 
kiss,  that  I  might  be  able  to  throw  myself  on  the  floor  and 
shriek — shriek  out  loud. 

Arno  put  on  his  clothes  quickly.  As  he  was  doing  so  he 
made  me  all  kinds  of  comforting  speeches. 

"  Courage,  Martha !  In  two  months  at  the  most  the  affair 
will  be  over,  and  I  shall  be  back  again  at  cuckoo-time ;  only 
one  in  a  thousand  bullets  hits,  and  that  one  must  not  hit  me. 
Others  before  me  have  come  back  from  the  wars — look  at  your 
papa.     It  must  happen  sometime  or  other.     You  did  not  marry 


LAY   DOWU   YOUR   ARMS.  VJ 

an  officer  of  hussars  with  the  notion  that  his  .business  was  to 
grow  hyacinths.  I  will  write  to  you  as  often  as  possible,  and 
tell  you  how  pleasantly  and  livelily  the  whole  campaign  is  going 
on.  If  anything  bad  were  destined  for  me  I  could  not  feel  so 
cheerful.  I  am  going  only  to  win  an  order,  nothing  else.  Take 
great  care  here  of  yourself  and  our  Ruru ;  and  if  I  get  promo- 
tion he  shall  have  another  step  too.  Kiss  him  for  me ;  I  will 
not  repeat  the  parting  of  last  night.  The  time  will  come  when 
it  will  be  a  treat  for  him  to  have  his  father  tell  him  how  in  the 
year  '59  he  was  present  at  the  great  victory  over  Italy." 

I  listened  to  him  greedily.  This  confident  chatter  did  me 
good.  He  was  going  away  all  pleased  and  in  good  spirits,  and 
so  my  suffering  must  be  egotistic  and  therefore  wrong;  this 
thought  ought  to  give  me  strength  to  conquer  it. 

Another  knock  at  the  door. 

**  Time  now,  lieutenant." 

"  I  am  quite  ready ;  coming  directly."  He  spread  out  his 
arms.     "  Now  then,  Martha — my  wife — ^my  love." 

I  lay  at  once  on  his  breast.  I  could  not  speak  a  word.  The 
word  "  farewell "  would  not  pass  my  lips.  I  felt  that  in  saying 
that  word  I  should  give  way,  and  I  did  not  dare  to  poison  the 
peace,  the  cheerfulness  of  his  departure.  I  reserved  the  out- 
break of  my  pain  as  a  kind  of  reward  for  my  solitude. 

But  now  he  spoke  the  heartbreaking  word. 

"  Good-bye,  my  all,  good-bye,"  and  pressed  his  lips  closely 
to  mine. 

We  could  not  tear  ourselves  out  of  this  embrace — as  though 
it  were  our  last.  Then  on  a  sudden  I  felt  how  his  lips  were 
trembling,  how  convulsively  his  bosom  heaved,  and  then  releas- 
ing me,  he  covered  his  face  and  sobbed  aloud. 

That  was  too  much  for  me.  I  thought  I  was  going  out  of 
my  mind. 

"Amo,  Arno!"  I  cried  out,  throwing  my  arms  round  him, 
"  stay,  stay  1 "  I  knew  I  was  asking  what  was  impossible ;  still 
I  cried  out  persistently  :  **  Stay,  stay  ! " 

"  T^ieutenant,"  we  heard  from  outside,  "  it  is  now  quite  time." 


28  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

One  more  kiss — the  last  of  all — and  he  rushed  out 

To  tear  charpie,  to  read  the  news  in  the  papers,  to  stick  pins 
with  flags  into  our  maps  in  order  to  follow  the  movements  of  the 
two  armies,  and  try  to  solve  the  chess  problems  that  followed 
from  them  in  the  sense  that  "  Austria  attacks  and  gives  mate  at 
the  fourth  move  " ;  to  pray  continually  in  the  churches  for  the 
protection  of  our  loved  ones  and  the  victory  of  our  country's 
arms ;  to  talk  of  nothing  except  the  news  that  came  in  from  the 
theatre  of  war;  such  was  what  filled  up  my  existence  now  and 
that  of  my  relatives  and  acquaintance.  Life  with  all  its  other 
interests  appeared  suspended  as  it  were  during  the  term  of  the 
campaign.  Everything  except  the  question  "  How  and  when 
will  this  war  end  ?  *'  was  bereft  of  importance — nay,  almost  of 
reality.  One  ate,  drank,  read,  saw  after  one's  affairs,  but  all 
this  had  no  real  concern  for  us ;  one  thing  only  concerned  u? 
thoroughly — the  telegrams  from  Italy. 

My  chief  gleams  of  light  were,  of  course,  the  news  that  I 
received  from  Amo  himself.  They  were  in  a  curt  style — letter- 
writing  had  never  been  his  strong  point — but  they  brought 
me  the  most  cheering  testimony  that  he  was  still  alive  and 
unwounded.  These  letters  and  despatches  could  not  indeed 
nrrive  with  much  regularity,  for  the  communications  were  often 
interrupted,  or  when  an  action  was  impending  the  field-post 
was  suspended. 

If  a  few  days  had  passed  thus,  without  my  hearing  from  Arno, 
and  a  list  of  killed  and  wounded  was  published,  with  what 
terror  did  I  not  read  over  the  names  !  It  is  as  great  a  stram  as 
for  the  holder  of  a  lottery  ticket  to  look  through  the  winning 
numbers  in  the  list  of  a  drawing — but  in  the  opposite  sense ; 
what  one  seeks  in  this  case,  well  knowing,  thank  God,  that  the 
chance  is  against  one,  is  the  chief  prize  in  misery. 

The  first  time  that  I  read  the  names  of  the  slain — and  I  had 
been  four  days  without  news — and  saw  that  the  name  of  Arno 
Dotzky  was  not  among  them,  I  folded  my  hands  and  cried 
aloud :  "  My  God,  I  thank  Thee  1 "     But  the  words  were  hardly 


L4T  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  29 

out  of  my  mouth  when  it  seemed  to  me  like  a  shrill  discord. 
I  took  the  paper  in  my  hand  again  and  looked  at  the  list  of  names 
once  more.  So  I  thank  God  because  Adolf  Schmidt  and  Carl 
Miiller  and  many  others  were  slain,  but  not  Amo  Dotzky. 
Then  the  same  thanksgiving  would  have  been  appropriate  if  it 
had  risen  to  heaven  from  the  hearts  of  those  who  trembled  for 
Schmidt  and  Miiller,  if  they  had  read  "  Dotzky "  instead  of 
those  names.  And  why  should  my  thanks  in  particular  be 
more  pleasing  to  Heaven  than  theirs  ?  Yes,  this  was  the  shrill 
discord  of  my  ejaculation,  the  presumption  and  the  self-seeking 
which  lay  in  it,  in  believing  that  Amo  had  been  spared  in  love 
tor  me,  and  thanking  God  that  not  I  but  Schmidt's  mother 
ind  MGUer's  affianced  and  iBfty  others  had  to  burst  out  in  tears 
pver  that  list. 
On  the  same  day  I  received  from  Arno  another  letter : — 
"Yesterday  we  had  another  stout  fight.  Unfortunately — 
unfortunately  a  defeat.  But  comfort  yourself,  my  beloved 
Martha,  the  next  battle  will  bring  us  victory.  It  was  my  first 
great  affair.  I  was  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  storm 
of  bullets — a  peculiar  feeling.  I  will  tell  you  by  word  of 
mouth — but  it  is  frightful.  The  poor  fellows  whom  one  sees 
falling  around  one,  and  must  leave  there  in  spite  of  their  sad 
cries— {'est  la  guerre  t  Hope  to  see  you  soon  again,  my  dear. 
If  we  can  once  dictate  terms  of  peace  at  Turin,  you  shall 
travel  after  to  meet  me.  Aunt  Mary  will  be  kind  enough  to 
take  care  of  our  little  corporal." 

But  if  the  receipt  of  letters  like  these  constituted  the  sunshine 
of  my  life,  its  darkest  shadows  were  my  nights.  If  I  woke  out 
of  some  dream  of  blessed  forgetfulness,  and  the  horrible  reality 
with  its  horrible  possibilities  came  before  my  consciousness,  I 
was  seized  with  an  almost  intolerable  pain,  and  could  not  sleep 
again  for  hours.  I  could  not  get  rid  of  the  idea  that  Amo 
was  perhaps  at  that  moment  lying  in  a  ditch  groaning  and 
dying — thirsting  after  a  drop  of  water,  and  calling  longingly 
for  me.  The  only  way  that  I  could  gradually  compose  myself 
was  by  bringing,  with  all  my  force,  the  scene  of  his  return 


30  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

before  my  imagination.  This  was,  at  any  rate,  as  probable— 
nay,  perhaps  more  probable  than  his  lonely  death ;  and  so  1 
pictured  him  to  myself  as  bursting  into  the  room,  and  how  I 
should  fling  myself  on  his  bosom,  and  how  I  should  then  lead 
him  to  Ruru's  cradle,  and  how  happy  and  how  joyful  we  might 
then  once  more  be. 

My  father  was  much  cast  down.  One  bad  news  came  upon 
another.  First  Montebello,  then  Magenta.  And  not  he 
alone,  but  all  Vienna  was  cast  down.  We  had  at  the  begin- 
ning so  confidently  hoped  that  uninterrupted  messages  of 
victory  would  give  occasion  for  mounting  flags  on  our  houses 
and  singing  Te  Deums^  but  instead  of  this  the  flags  were 
waving  and  the  priests  singing  at  Turin.  There  the  word  now 
was :  "  Lord  God,  we  praise  Thee  that  Thou  hast  helped  us 
to  strike  down  the  wicked  *  Tedeschi '  ". 

"  Do  not  you  think,  papa,"  I  began,  "  that  if  another  defeat 
was  to  happen  to  us,  peace  would  then  be  made  ?  In  that 
case  I  should  wish  that  " 

"Are  you  not  ashamed  to  say  anything  of  the  kind?  I 
had  rather  it  should  be  a  seven  years* — aye,  a  thirty  years' 
war,  so  that  our  arms  should  conquer  at  last,  and  we  dictate 
the  terms  of  peace  !  What  do  men  go  to  war  for  ?  I  suppose 
not  to  get  out  of  it  again  as  quickly  as  possible ;  if  so,  they 
might  as  well  remain  at  home !  " 

'*  And  that  would  be  by  far  the  best/*  sighed  I. 

"  What  a  cowardly  lot  you  women  folk  are  !  Even  you — 
you,  who  have  been  so  well  grounded  in  the  principles  of  love 
of  country  and  feelings  of  honour,  are  yet  quite  out  of  heart 
already,  and  prize  your  personal  quiet  more  than  the  welfare 
and  fame  of  your  country." 

"  Ah  !  if  I  did  not  love  my  Amo  so  dearly." 

"  Love  of  your  husband,  love  of  your  family — all  that  is  very 
good ;  but  it  ought  only  to  occupy  the  second  place." 

'' Ought  \X.r' 

<•  «•••••• 

The  list  of  killed  had  already  brought  the  names  of  several 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS,  3 1 

officers  whom  I  had  known  personally.  Among  others,  that 
of  the  son — her  only  one — of  an  old  lady  for  whom  I  had 
conceived  a  great  feeling  of  respect. 

That  day  I  determined  to  visit  the  poor  lady.  It  was, 
for  me,  a  painful,  heavy  journey.  I  could  certainly  give  hei 
no  consolation — could  only  weep  with  her.  But  it  was  the 
duty  of  affection,  and  so  I  set  out. 

When  I  got  to  Frau  v.  Ullmann's  dwelling,  I  long  hesitated 
before  pulling  the  bell.  The  last  time  I  had  been  there  was 
to  a  cheerful  little  dance.  The  dear  old  mistress  of  the  house 
was  herself  then  full  of  joy.  "  Martha,"  she  said  to  me  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  "  we  are  the  two  most  enviable  women  in 
Vienna.  You  have  the  handsomest  of  husbands,  and  I  the 
most  excellent  of  sons."  And  to-day  ?  I  still,  indeed,  had 
my  husband.  But  who  knows  ?  The  shells  and  grape-shot 
were  flying  there  still  without  ceasing.  The  minute  just  past 
might  have  made  me  a  widow :  and  I  began  to  weep  before 
the  door.  That  was  the  proper  temper  for  so  mournful  a  visit. 
I  rang.  No  one  came.  I  rang  a  second  time.  Again  no 
answer.  Then  some  one  put  his  head  out  of  the  door  of 
one  of  the  other  floors. 

**  It  is  no  good  ringing,  miss.     The  dwelling  is  empty.** 

"  What !    Has  Frau  v.  UUmann  gone  ?  " 

"  She  was  taken  to  a  lunatic  asylum  three  days  since.'*  And 
the  head  disappeared  again  as  the  door  shut. 

I  remained  for  a  minute  or  two  motionless,  rooted  to  the 
spot,  and  the  scenes  which  must  have  been  going  on  here 
passed  before  my  eyes.  To  what  a  height  must  the  poor 
lady's  sufferings  have  risen  before  her  agony  broke  out  in 
madness ! 

"And  there  is  my  father  wishing  that  the  war  might  last 
thirty  years  for  the  welfare  of  the  country  !  How  many  more 
such  mothers  in  the  country  would  have  been  driven  to 
desperation ! " 

I  went  down  the  stairs  shaken  to  my  inmost  depth.  I 
determined  that  I  would  pay  another  visit  to  a  young  lady,  a 


3«  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

friend  of  mine,  whose  husband,  like  mine,  was  at  the  theatre  of 
war. 

My  way  led  me  through  the  Herrengasse,  past  the  building 
called  the  Landhaus,  where  the  "  Patriotic  Aid  Association  " 
had  established  its  offices.  At  that  time  there  was  not  as  yet 
any  "  Convention  of  Geneva,"  any  "  Red  Cross,"  and  this  aid 
association  had  been  formed  as  a  forerunner  of  these  humane 
institutions,  its  task  being  to  receive  alms  of  all  kinds,  in 
money,  linen,  charpie,  bandages,  etc.,  for  the  poor  wounded, 
and  forward  them  to  the  seat  of  war.  The  gifts  came  flowing 
in  abundantly  from  all  sides ;  it  was  necessary  to  have  whole 
shops  to  receive  them,  and  scarcely  were  the  different  articles 
packed  up  and  sent  off  when  new  ones  were  piled  up  again  in 
their  place. 

I  went  in.  I  was  in  distress  till  I  could  hand  over  to  the 
committee  all  that  I  had  in  my  purse.  Perhaps  that  might 
bring  health  and  deliverance  to  some  sufiering  soldier,  and  save 
his  mother  from  madness. 

I  knew  the  president     "  Is  Prince  C here  ?  "  1  asked 

the  porter. 

"Not  just  now.     But  the  vice-president.  Baron  S ,  is 

upstairs."  He  showed  me  the  way  to  the  room  where  the  alms 
in  money  were  paid.  I  had  to  pass  through  several  halls, 
where  on  long  tables  were  the  packets  lying  in  rows.  Parcels 
of  linen,  cigars,  tobacco,  and  especially  mountains  of  charpie. 
It  made  me  shudder.  How  many  wounds  must  be  bleeding 
there,  to  be  covered  with  all  this  torn  linen  ?  "  And  there  was 
my  father,"  I  thought  again,  "  wishing  that  for  the  country's 
good  the  war  might  last  another  thirty  years  !  How  many  of 
the  country's  sons  must  in  that  case  sink  under  their  wounds  I  " 

Baron  S received  my  contribution  with  thanks,  and  gave 

me  the  most  ready  information  about  the  working  of  the  associa- 
tion in  reply  to  my  numerous  questions.  It  was  joyful  and 
comforting  to  hear  how  much  good  was  thus  done.  Just  at 
the  time  came  the  postman  with  some  letters  that  had  newly 
arrived,  and  announced  that  two  barrows  of  offerings  had  to  be 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARlfl.  33 

delivered  from  the  country.  I  placed  myself  on  a  sofa  which 
was  in  the  lower  part  of  the  room  to  watch  the  reception  of  the 
packets.  They  were,  however,  delivered  in  another  room.  A 
very  old  gentleman  now  came  in,  who  by  his  bearing  was 
evidently  an  old  soldier. 

••  Permit  me,  baron,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  out  his  purse  and 
sat  down  on  a  stool  by  the  table,  "  permit  me  to  add  my  little 
mite  too  to  your  noble  work."  And  he  gave  him  a  note  for  a 
hundred  florins.  "  I  look  on  all  this  organisation  of  yours  as 
eally  angelic ;  you  see  I  am  an  old  soldier  myself,"  and  he 

gave  his  name  as  General ,  "  and  I  can  judge  what  an 

enormous  blessing  it  is  to  the  poor  fellows  who  are  fighting 
out  there.  I  served  in  the  campaigns  of  the  years  '9  and  '13 — 
at  that  time  there  was  no  *  Patriotic  Aid  Association ' — ^at  that 
time  no  one  sent  chests  of  bandages  and  charpie  after  the 
wounded.  How  many  must  then  have  bled  to  death  in 
misery  when  the  resources  of  the  army  surgeons  were  ex- 
hausted, who  might  have  been  saved  by  sending  such  things 
as  I  see  here  I  Ah  1  yours  is  a  blessed  work.  You  good 
noble  men,  you  do  not  know — no,  you  do  not  know — how 
much  good  you  are  doing  there."  And  two  great  tears  fell 
on  the  old  man's  white  moustache. 

A  noise  of  steps  and  voices  arose  outside.  Both  leaves 
of  the  entrance  door  were  thrown  open  and  a  guardsman 
announced  "  Her  Majesty  the  Empress  ". 

The  vice-president  hurried  out  to  the  gate  to  receive  his 
exalted  visitor,  as  beseemed,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  but  she 
had  already  got  into  the  ante-room. 

I,  from  my  concealed  position,  looked  with  admiration  on 
the  young  sovereign  who  in  common  walking  dress  appeared 
to  me  almost  lovelier  than  in  her  state  robes  at  the  court 
ball. 

"  I  am  come,"  she  said  to  Baron  S ,  **  because  I  received  a 

letter  to-day  from  the  emperor  from  the  seat  of  war,  in  which 
he  writes  to  tell  me  how  useful  and  acceptable  the  gifts  of  the 
Patriotic  Aid  Association  have  proved,  and  so  I  wished  to  look 

3 


34  '^Y   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

into  the  matter  myself,  and  put  the  committee  in  receipt  of  the 
emperor's  acknowledgment" 

On  this  she  made  them  give  her  information  about  all  the 
details  of  the  working  of  the  association,  and  examined  as  she 
went  along  the  various  objects  from  their  stores.  "  Just  look, 
countess,"  she  said  to  the  mistress  of  the  robes,  who  was  with 
her,  taking  an  article  of  underclothing  in  her  hand,  '*  how  good 
this  linen  is,  and  how  beautifully  sewn."  Then  she  begged 
the  vice-president  to  conduct  her  into  another  of  the  rooms, 
and  left  the  hall  by  his  side.  She  spoke  to  him  with  visible 
contentment,  and  I  heard  her  say  besides :  "  It  is  a  fine 
patriotic  undertaking,  and  to  the  poor  soldiers " 

I  could  not  catch  any  more.  "  Poor  soldiers,"  the  word  kept 
coming  back  to  me  for  a  long  time,  she  had  pronounced  it  with 
so  much  pity.  Yes,  "  poor  "  indeed,  and  the  more  one  could 
do  to  send  them  help  and  comfort  the  better.  But  it  ran 
through  my  head :  **  If  they  had  not  sent  these  poor  people 
into  this  misery  at  all,  would  not  that  have  been  much  better  ?  " 

I  tried  to  scare  away  the  thought.  It  must  be  so !  It  must 
be  so  1  There  is  no  other  excuse  for  the  cruelty  of  making  war 
except  what  is  contained  in  the  little  word  "  must ". 

Now  I  went  on  my  way  again.  The  friend  whom  I  was 
going  to  visit  lived  quite  close  to  the  Landhaus  on  the  Kohl- 
markt.  As  I  walked  along  I  went  into  a  book  and  print  shop  to 
buy  myself  a  new  map  of  Upper  Italy — ours  had  become  quite 
riddled  with  sticking  in  the  little  flags  on  pins.  Besides  me 
there  were  many  other  customers  in  the  place.  All  were  asking 
for  maps,  diagrams,  and  so  forth.     Now  came  my  turn. 

"  Do  you  want  the  theatre  of  war,  too,  please  ? "  asked  the 
bookseller. 

"  You  have  guessed  it* 

"No  difficulty  in  that  There  is  hardly  anything  else 
bought" 

He  went  to  get  what  I  wanted,  and  while  he  wrapped  up  the 
roll  in  paper  for  me,  he  said  to  a  gentleman  standing  next  to 
me :  "  You  see,  professor,  just  now  things  go  badly  for  thosfj 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  35 

who  write  or  publish  books  on  belles  lettres  or  science.  No  one 
asks  for  such  things.  As  long  as  the  war  lasts  no  interest  is 
taken  by  any  one  in  intellectual  matters.  It  is  a  bad  time  for 
writers  and  booksellers.*' 

"And  a  bad  time  for  the  nation,"  replied  the  professor, 
"  since  a  loss  of  interest  in  such  things  is  naturally  followed  by 
its  decline  in  the  intellectual  scale." 

"  And  there  is  my  father  wishing,*'  thought  I  for  the  third 
time,  "  that  for  the  good  of  the  country  a  thirty  years'  war " 

I  now  took  part  audibly  in  the  conversation. 

**  So  your  business  is  doing  badly  ?  " 

•*  Mine  only  ?  No,  almost  all,  your  ladyship,"  answered  the 
bookseller.  **  Except  the  providers  for  the  army  there  are  no 
tradesmen  to  whom  the  war  has  not  brought  untold  loss. 
Everything  is  at  a  standstill ;  work  in  the  factories ;  work  in  the 
fields;  men  without  number  are  without  places  and  without 
bread.  Our  paper  is  falling ;  the  exchange  rising ;  all  desire 
for  enterprise  is  decaying ;  many  firms  must  go  bankrupt — in 
short,  it  is  a  misery  !  a  misery  I  " 

"And  there  is  my  father  wishing "  I  repeated  in  silence 

as  I  left  the  shop. 

My  friend  was  at  home. 

Countess  Lori  Griesbach  was  in  more  than  one  respect  the 
sharer  of  my  lot.  A  general's  daughter,  like  me — married  for 
only  a  short  time  to  an  officer,  like  me — and,  like  me,  a  "  grass 
widow".  In  one  thing  she  went  beyond  me:  she  had  not 
only  a  husband,  but  two  brothers  also  at  the  war.  But  Lori 
was  not  of  an  apprehensive  nature;  she  was  fully  persuaded  that 
her  dear  ones  were  under  the  peculiar  protection  of  a  saint 
whom  she  highly  venerated,  and  she  counted  confidently  on 
their  return. 

She  received  me  with  open  arms. 

"  Ah  !  God  bless  you,  Martha ;  it  is  indeed  good  of  you  to 
come  and  see  me.  But  how  pale  and  worn  you  are  looking ; 
you  have  not  had  any  bad  news  from  the  seat  of  war  ?  " 


36  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

*'  No,  thank  God  !     But  the  whole  thing  is  so  sad.** 

"  Ah,  yes  1  You  mean  the  defeat.  But  you  must  not  think 
too  much  of  that,  the  next  news  may  announce  a  victory," 

"Whether  we  conquer  or  are  conquered,  war  is  in  itself 
dreadful  altogether.  Would  it  not  be  better  if  there  could  be 
nothing  of  the  kind  ?  " 

"  Then  what  would  be  the  good  of  soldiers  ?  " 

"What,  indeed!"  I  assented;  "then  there  would  be 
none *' 

"What  nonsense  you  are  talking.  That  would  be  a  nice 
state  of  things ;  nothing  but  civilians  I  It  makes  me  shudder. 
Happily  that  is  impossible." 

"Impossible?  Yes,  you  must  be  right  I  will  believe  so, 
or  else  I  could  not  conceive  that  it  would  not  long  since  have 
happened." 

"What  happened?* 

"The  abolition  of  war.  But,  no;  I  might  as  well  talk  of 
the  abolition  of  earthquakes." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned 
I  am  glad  this  war  has  broken  out,  because  I  hope  that  my 
Louis  will  distinguish  himself.  And  for  my  brothers,  too,  it  is 
a  good  thing.  Promotion  has  been  going  on  so  slowly ;  now 
they  have  at  least  a  chance." 

"  Have  you  had  any  news  lately?**  I  interrupted.  "Are  your 
relatives  all  well  ?  " 

"  No,  not  for  a  pretty  long  time  now.  But,  you  know,  the 
postal  service  is  often  interrupted,  and  when  people  are  tired 
out  with  a  hot  march  or  a  battle,  they  have  not  much  taste  for 
writing.  I  am  quite  easy.  Both  Louis  and  my  brothers  wear 
blessed  amulets.     Mamma  hung  them  on  herself.*' 

"  What  would  you  expect  to  happen,  Lori,  in  a  war  in  which 
every  man  in  both  armies  wore  an  amulet  ?  If  the  bullets  were 
flying  on  both  sides,  would  they  retire  back  into  the  clouds 
and  do  no  harm  ?  ** 

"  I  do  not  understand  you.  You  are  so  lukewarm  in  faith. 
Your  Aunt  Mary  often  laments  about  it  to  me." 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  37 

"  Why  do  you  not  answer  my  question  ?  " 

"  Because  it  involves  a  sneer  at  a  thing  which  to  me  is  sacred." 

"  Sneer ;  oh,  no  I  only  a  reasonable  reflection." 

"  But  you  must  know  that  it  is  a  sin  to  entrust  your  own 
reason  with  the  power  of  judging  in  things  which  are  above  us." 

"  \Vq\\,  I  have  done,  Lori.  You  may  be  right  Reflection 
and  research  are  of  no  use.  For  sometime  all  kinds  of  doubts 
have  risen  within  me  about  my  most  ancient  convictions,  and 
I  find  only  pain  from  them.  If  I  were  to  lose  the  conviction 
that  it  was  a  necessity  and  a  good  thing  to  begin  this  war,  I 
should  never  be  able  to  forgive  him  who ** 

"  You  mean  Louis  Napoleon,     What  an  intriguer  he  is !  * 

"Whether  he  or  another,  I  should  like  to  remain  in  the 
undisturbed  belief  that  there  are  no  men  at  all  who  have 
caused  the  war,  but  that  it  *  broke  out '  of  itself — broke  out, 
like  a  nervous  fever,  like  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius." 

"How  excited  you  get,  my  love.  But  let  us  speak 
reasonably ;  so  listen  to  me.  In  a  short  time  the  war  will  be 
over  and  our  husbands  will  come  back  captains.  I  will  then 
try  to  get  mine  to  obtain  four  or  six  weeks'  leave,  and  take  a  trip 
with  me  to  a  watering-place.  It  will  do  him  good  after  all  the 
fatigues  he  will  have  undergone ;  and  me  also,  after  the  heat, 
and  the  ennui,  and  the  anxiety  I  have  undergone.  For  you 
must  not  think  that  I  have  no  fear  at  all.  It  may  be  God's 
will  after  all  that  one  of  my  dear  ones  should  meet  with  a 
soldier's  death — and  even  though  it  is  a  noble,  enviable  death, 
on  the  field  of  honour,  for  emperor  and  fatherland " 

"  Why,  you  are  speaking  just  like  one  of  the  proclamations 
to  the  army  I " 

"Yet  it  would  be  frightful — poor  mamma ! — if  anything  was  to 
happen  to  Gustave  or  Karl.  Don't  let  us  talk  about  it !  And 
so,  to  refresh  us  after  all  our  terror,  it  would  be  good  to  have 
a  gay  season  at  a  watering-place.  I  should  prefer  Carlsbad, 
and  I  went  there  when  I  was  a  girl,  and  amused  myself 
amazingly." 

"  I  too  went  to  Marienbad.     It  was  there  I  made  Arno's 


38  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

acquaintance.  But  why  are  we  sitting  here  idle  like  this? 
Have  you  no  linen  at  hand  that  we  could  tear  into  charpie  ? 
I  was  at  the  Patriotic  Aid  Association  to-day,  and  there  came 
in,  who  do  you  think  ?  " 

Here  I  was  interrupted.     A  footman  brought  in  a  letter. 

"  From  Gustave,"  cried  Lori  joyfully,  as  she  broke  the  seal. 

When  she  had  read  two  lines  she  gave  a  shriek,  the  paper 
fell  out  of  her  hand  and  she  threw  herself  on  my  neck. 

"  Lori,  my  poor  dear,  what  is  it  ? "  I  cried,  deeply  moved ; 
"  your  husband  ?  " 

"  O  God,  O  God ! "  she  groaned.     "  Read  for  yourself." 

I  took  the  letter  from  the  floor  and  began  to  read.  I  can 
reproduce  the  phraseology  exactly,  because  afterwards  I  begged 
the  letter  from  Lori  to  copy  it  into  my  diary. 

"Read  out  loud,"  she  said;  "I  was  not  able  to  read  it 
through." 

I  did  as  she  wished. 

"  Dear  Sister, — ^Yesterday  we  had  a  hot  combat ;  there  must 
be  a  long  list  of  casualties.  In  order  that  you,  and  in  order 
that  our  poor  mother  may  not  hear  in  that  way  of  the  mis- 
fortune, that  you  may  be  able  to  prepare  her  for  it  gradually 
(tell  her  he  is  severely  wounded),  I  write  at  once,  my  dear, 
to  tell  you  that  our  brave  brother  Karl  is  of  the  number  of  the 
warriors  who  have  died  for  their  country." 

I  interrupted  my  reading  to  embrace  my  friend. 

"  I  had  got  so  far,**  she  said  gently. 

With  tearful  voice  I  read  on. 

"  Your  husband  is  untouched,  and  so  am  I.  Would  that 
the  enemy's  bullet  had  hit  me  instead !  I  envy  Karl  his 
hero's  death.  He  fell  at  the  beginning  of  the  battle,  and  did 
not  know  that  this  one  again  was  lost.  It  is  really  too  bitter. 
I  saw  him  fall,  for  we  were  riding  near  each  other.  I  jumped 
down  at  once  to  pick  him  up.  Only  one  look  and  he  was 
dead.  The  bullet  must  have  passed  through  his  lungs  or 
heart.  It  was  a  quick  painless  death.  How  many  others 
had  to  suffer  for  hours,  and  to  lie  helpless  on  the  field  in 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  39 

the  heat  of  the  battle,  till  death  released  them  I  It  was  a 
murderous  day — more  than  a  thousand  corpses,  friend  and 
enemy,  covered  the  battlefield.  I  recognised  among  the 
dead  the  faces  of  so  many  dear  friends ;  and,  amongst  others, 
there  is  poor" — here  I  had  to  turn  the  page — "poor  Arno 
Dotzky." 
I  fell  unconscious  ou  uac  sjojul. 


CHAPn^Tn  m 

First  years  of  widowhood, — Solitude^  study,  enlarged  views. — 
/  return  into  society. — Renewed  enjoyment  of  life. — Thoughts 
of  second  marriage, — I  chaperon  my  younger  sisters, — I  am 
introduced  to  Baron  Tilling^ — He  brings  me  an  account  of 
the  manner  of  Arnds  death. 

"  Now,  Martha,  it  is  all  over.  Solferino  was  decisive — we  are 
beaten.** 

My  father  came  hastily  one  morning  on  to  the  terrace,  with 
these  words,  where  I  was  sitting  under  the  shadow  of  a  clump 
of  lime  trees. 

I  had  gone  back  home,  to  the  house  of  my  girlhood,  with 
my  little  Rum.  A  week  after  the  great  battle,  which  had 
struck  me  down,  my  family  moved  to  Grumitz,  our  country 
house  in  Lower  Austria,  and  I  with  them.  I  should  have 
been  in  despair  alone.  Now  all  were  again  around  me,  just 
as  before  my  marriage — papa.  Aunt  Mary,  my  little  brother, 
and  my  two  growing  sisters.  All  of  them  did  what  they  possibly 
could  to  mitigate  my  grief,  and  treated  me  with  a  certain  con- 
sideration which  did  me  good.  Evidently  they  found  in  my  sad 
fate  a  sort  of  consecration,  a  something  which  raised  me  above 
those  around  me,  even  a  kind  of  merit.  Next  to  the  blood 
which  soldiers  pour  out  on  the  altar  of  their  country,  the  tears 
which  the  bereaved  mothers,  wives,  and  sweethearts  of  the 
soldiers  pour  on  the  same  altar  become  a  libation  hardly  less 
sacred.  And  thus  it  was  a  slight  feeling  of  pride,  a  conscious- 
ness that  to  have  lost  a  beloved  husband  on  the  field  of 
honour  conferred  ft  kind  of  military  merit,  which  helped  me 

(40) 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  4I 

most  to  bear  my  pain  ;  and  I  was  far  from  being  the  only  one. 
How  many,  ah  !  how  many  women  in  the  whole  of  the  country 
were  then  mourning  over  their  loved  ones  sleeping  in  Italian 
earth  I 

At  that  time  no  further  particulars  were  known  to  me  of 
Arno's  end.  He  had  been  found  dead,  recognised,  and 
buried.  That  was  all  I  knew.  His  last  thought  doubtless 
had  flown  towards  me  and  our  little  darling,  and  his  consola- 
tion in  the  last  moment  must  have  been  :  "  I  have  done  my 
duty,  and  more  than  my  duty  ". 

"  We  are  beaten,"  repeated  my  father  gloomily,  as  he  sat 
down  by  me  on  the  garden  seat. 

"  So  those  who  have  been  sacrificed  were  sacrificed  in  vain.'* 
I  sighed. 

"  Those  who  have  been  sacrificed  are  to  be  envied,  for  they 
know  nothing  of  the  shame  which  has  befallen  us.  But  we 
will  soon  pick  up  again  for  all  that,  even  if  at  present  peace, 
as  they  say,  must  be  concluded." 

"  Ah,  God  grant  it,"  I  interrupted.  "  Too  late,  indeed,  for 
my  poor  Arno,  but  still  thousands  of  others  will  be  spared." 

"You  are  always  thinking  of  yourself  and  of  individuals. 
But  in  this  matter  it  is  Austria  which  is  in  question." 

"  Well,  but  does  not  she  consist  entirely  of  individuals  ?  *' 

"My  dear,  a  kingdom,  a  state,  lives  a  longer  and  more 
important  life  than  individuals  do.  They  disappear,  generation 
after  generation,  while  the  state  expands  still  farther,  grows 
into  glor}%  greatness  and  power,  or  sinks  and  crumples  up  and 
disappears,  if  it  allows  itself  to  be  overcome  by  other  kingdoms. 
Therefore  the  most  important  and  the  highest  aim  for  which 
any  individual  has  to  struggle,  and  for  which  he  ought  to  be 
glad  to  die,  is  the  existence,  the  greatness  and  the  well-being  of 
the  kingdom." 

I  impressed  these  words  on  my  mind  in  order  to  put  them 
down  the  same  day  in  the  red  volume.  They  seemed  to  me 
to  express  so  clearly  and  strongly  the  feeling  which  I  had 
derived  in  my  student  days  from  the  books  of  history,  a  feeling 


42  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

which  in  these  last  times,  after  Arno's  departure,  had  been 
driven  out  of  my  mind  by  fear  and  pity.  I  wanted  to  cleave  to 
it  again  as  close  as  possible,  in  order  to  find  consolation  and 
support  in  the  idea  that  my  darling  had  fallen  in  a  great  cause, 
and  that  my  misfortune  itself  was  only  one  element  in  this 
great  cause. 

Aunt  Mary  had,  on  the  other  hand,  a  different  source  of 
consolation  ready. 

"  Do  not  weep,  dear  child,"  she  used  to  say,  when  I  was  sunk 
in  profound  grief.  "  Do  not  be  so  selfish  as  to  bewail  him  who 
is  now  so  happy.  He  is  among  the  blessed,  and  is  looking 
down  on  you  with  blessing.  After  a  few  quickly  passing  years 
on  earth  you  will  find  him  again  in  the  fulness  of  his  glory. 
For  those  who  have  fallen  on  the  field  of  battle  Heaven  reserves 
its  fairest  dwellings.  Happy  those  who  were  called  away  just 
at  the  moment  when  they  were  fulfilling  a  holy  duty.  The 
dying  soldier  stands  next  in  merit  to  the  dying  martyr." 

"  Then  I  am  to  be  glad  that  Arno " 

"  No,  not  to  be  glad,  that  would  be  asking  too  much,  but  to 
bear  your  lot  with  humble  resignation.  It  is  a  probation  that 
Heaven  sends  you,  and  from  which  you  should  emerge  purified 
and  strengthened  in  faith." 

"  So,  in  order  that  I  might  be  tried  and  purified,  Arno  had 
to " 

"  No,  not  on  that  account.  But  who  dare  seek  to  sound  the 
hidden  ways  of  Providence  ?     Not  I  at  least." 

Although  such  objections  always  would  rise  in  me  against 
Aunt  Mary's  consolations,  yet  in  the  depths  of  my  heart  I  readily 
fell  in  with  the  mystical  assumption  that  my  glorified  one  was 
now  enjoying  in  Heaven  the  reward  of  his  death  of  sacrifice, 
and  that  his  memory  on  earth  was  adorned  with  the  eternal 
glory  of  sainthood. 

How  exalting,  though  painful  at  the  same  time,  was  the 
effect  on  me  of  the  great  mourning  celebration  at  which  I  was 
present  in  the  cathedral  of  St.  Stephen's  on  the  day  of  our 
departure  I     It  was  the  De  Piofundis  for  our  warriors  who  had 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  43 

fallen  on  foreign  soil  and  were  buried  there.  In  the  centre  of 
the  church  a  high  catafalque  had  been  erected,  surrounded  by 
a  hundred  lighted  candles  and  decorated  with  military  emblems, 
flags  and  arms.  From  the  choir  came  down  the  moving  strains 
of  the  requiem,  and  those  present,  chiefly  women  in  mourning, 
were  almost  all  weeping  aloud.  And  each  one  was  weeping 
not  only  for  him  whom  she  had  lost,  but  for  the  rest  who  had 
met  with  the  same  death,  for  all  of  them  together,  all  the  poor 
brave  brothers-in-arms,  who  had  given  their  young  lives  for  us  all 
— that  is,  for  the  country,  the  honour  of  the  nation.  And  the 
living  soldiers  who  attended  this  ceremony — all  the  generals 
and  officers  who  had  remained  behind  in  Vienna  were  there, 
and  several  companies  of  soldiers  filled  the  background — all 
were  waiting  and  ready  to  follow  their  fallen  comrades  without 
delay,  without  murmur,  without  fear.  Yes,  with  the  clouds  of 
incense,  with  the  pealing  bells,  and  the  voice  of  the  organ,  with 
the  tears  poured  out  in  a  common  woe,  there  must  surely 
have  risen  a  well-pleasing  sacrifice  to  Heaven,  and  the  Lord  of 
armies  must  shower  His  blessing  down  on  those  to  whom 
this  catafalque  was  erected. 

So  I  thought  at  that  time.  At  least  these  were  the  words 
with  which  the  red  book  describes  this  mourning  ceremony. 

About  fourteen  days  later  than  the  news  of  the  defeat  of 
Solferino  came  the  news  of  the  signing  of  the  preliminaries  of 
peace  at  Villafranca.  My  father  took  all  the  pains  possible  to 
explain  to  me  that  for  political  reasons  it  was  a  matter  of  press- 
ing necessity  to  conclude  this  peace,  on  which  I  assured  him 
that  it  seemed  to  me  joyful  news  anyhow  that  this  fighting  and 
dying  should  come  to  an  end.  But  my  good  papa  would  not 
be  hindered  from  setting  forth  at  length  all  his  exculpatory 
statements. 

"  You  must  not  think  that  we  are  afraid  Even  if  it  has 
a  look  as  if  we  had  made  concessions,  yet  we  forego  nothing  of 
our  dignity,  and  know  perfectly  what  we  are  about.  If  it  con- 
cerned ourselves  only  we  should  never  have  given  up  the  game 
on  account  of  this  little  check  at  Solferino.     Oh,  no !  far  from 


44  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

it.  We  should  only  have  had  to  send  down  another  corp% 
d'armie^  and  the  enemy  would  have  been  obliged  to  evacuate 
Milan  again  in  quick  time.  But  you  know,  Martha,  that  other 
things  are  concerned — general  interests  and  principles.  We 
renounced  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war.  for  this  reason : 
in  order  to  secure  the  other  principalities  in  Italy  which  are 
menaced — those  that  the  captain  of  the  Sardinian  robbers,  with 
his  French  hangman-ally,  would  be  glad  to  fall  upon  also. 
They  want  to  advance  against  Modena,  Tuscany — where,  as  you 
know,  dynasties  are  in  power  related  to  our  own  imperial  family — 
nay,  even  against  Rome,  against  the  Pope,  the  Vandals.  If 
we  do  provisionally  give  up  Lombardy,  yet  we  keep  Venetia  all 
the  time,  and  are  able  to  assure  the  south  Italian  states  and  the 
Holy  See  of  our  support.  So  you  perceive  that  it  is  merely  for 
political  reasons,  and  in  the  interest  of  the  balance  of  power  in 
Europe " 

"Oh,  yes,  father,*'  I  broke  in;  "I  perceive  it.  But  oh 
that  these  reasons  had  prevailed  before  Magenta ! "  I  continued, 
sighing  bitterly.  Then,  to  change  the  subject,  I  pointed  to 
a  parcel  of  books  that  had  come  in  that  day  from  Vienna. 

"  See  here !  the  bookseller  has  sent  us  several  things  on  ap- 
proval. Amongst  them  there  is  the  work  of  an  English  natural 
philosopher — one  Darwin — The  Origin  of  Species^  and  he  calls 
our  attention  to  it  as  being  of  special  interest,  and  likely  to  be 
of  epoch-making  importance." 

"My  worthy  friend  must  excuse  me.  Who,  in  such  a 
momentous  time  as  this,  could  take  an  interest  in  these  tom- 
fooleries ?  What  can  a  book  about  the  kinds  of  beasts  and 
plants  contain  of  epoch-making  importance  for  us  men  ?  The 
confederation  of  the  Italian  states,  the  hegemony  of  Austria  in 
the  German  Bund — these  are  matters  of  far-stretching  influence; 
these  will  long  keep  their  place  in  history,  when  no  living  man 
shall  any  longer  know  anything  about  that  English  book  there. 
Mark  my  words." 

I  did  mark  them. 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  45 

Four  years  later,  my  two  sisters,  now  seventeen  and 
eighteen  years  old,  were  to  be  presented  at  court.  On  this 
occasion  I  determined  that  I  would  also  again  "go  into 
society  '\ 

The  time  which  had  elapsed  had  done  its  work,  and 
gradually  mitigated  ray  pain.  Despair  changed  into  mourning, 
mourning  into  sorrow,  sorrow  into  indifference,  and  even  this 
at  last  into  renewed  pleasure  in  life.  I  woke  one  fine  morning 
to  the  conviction  that  I  really  was  in  an  enviable  condition, 
and  one  that  promised  happiness.  Twenty-three  years  old, 
beautiful,  rich,  high-born,  free,  the  mother  of  a  darling  child,  a 
member  of  an  affectionate  family — was  not  all  this  enough  to 
make  my  life  pleasant  ? 

The  short  year  of  my  married  life  lay  behind  me  like  a 
dream.  No  doubt  I  had  been  desperately  in  love  with  my 
handsome  hussar — no  doubt  my  loving  husband  had  made  me 
very  happy — no  doubt  the  parting  had  caused  me  grievous  pain 
and  his  loss  wild  agony  1  but  that  was  all  over — over !  My  love 
had  assuredly  never  grown  so  closely  into  the  whole  existence 
of  my  soul  that  I  could  never  have  survived  its  uprooting, 
never  have  lost  the  pain  of  it ;  our  life  together  had  been  too 
Bhort  for  that.  We  had  adored  each  other  like  a  pair  of  ardent 
lovers ;  but  to  have  entered  into  each  other,  heart  to  heart, 
Koul  to  soul,  to  be  fast  bound  to  each  other  in  mutual  rever- 
ence and  friendship,  to  have  shared  for  long  years  our  joys 
and  our  sorrows — this,  which  is  the  lot  of  some  married  people, 
had  not  been  given  to  us  two.  Even  I  was  assuredly  not  his 
highest  object,  not  something  indispensable,  otherwise  he  could 
not  so  cheerfully  and  with  no  compulsion  of  duty  (for  his  own 
regiment  was  never  ordered  out)  have  left  me.  Besides,  in 
these  four  years  I  had  gradually  become  another  creature,  my 
spiritual  horizon  had  enlarged  in  many  respects,  I  had  come 
into  possession  of  acquirements  and  views  of  which  I  had  no 
notion  when  I  married,  and  of  which  Arno  also — as  I  could  now 
perceive — had  no  idea  either,  and  so — if  he  could  have  risen 
again — he  would  have  stood  in  the  position  of  a  stranger 


46  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

towards  many  parts  of  my  present  spiritual  life.     How  had  this 
change  come  about  with  me  ?     This  is  how  it  happened. 

One  year  of  my  widowhood  had  passed.  The  first  phase — 
despair — had  given  place  to  mourning.  But  it  was  very  deep 
mourning,  and  my  heart  was  bleeding.  Of  any  renewal  of  the 
•intercourse  of  society  I  would  not  hear.  I  thought  that  from 
this  time  my  life  must  be  occupied  only  with  the  education  of 
my  son  Rudolf.  I  called  the  child  no  longer  Ruru,  or 
corporal.  The  baby-jokes  of  the  pair  of  married  lovers  were 
over. .  The  little  one  turned  into  **  my  son  Rudolf" — the  sacred 
centre  of  all  my  effort,  hope,  and  love.  In  order  to  be  one  day 
a  good  teacher  for  him,  or  rather  in  order  to  follow  his  studies, 
and  be  able  to  become  his  intellectual  companion,  I  wanted  to 
acquire  myself  all  the  knowledge  that  I  could,  and  with  this  view 
reading  was  the  only  amusement  I  allowed  myself;  and  so  I 
plunged  anew  into  the  treasures  of  the  library  of  our  chateau. 
I  wa^  especially  impelled  to  take  up  again  the  study  which  was 
my  peculiar  favourite — history.  Latterly,  when  the  war  had 
demanded  such  heavy  sacrifices  from  my  contemporaries  and 
myself,  my  former  enthusiasm  had  become  much  cooled,  and  I 
now  wished  to  light  it  up  again  by  appropriate  reading.  And, 
in  fact,  it  brought  me  sometimes  a  kind  of  consolation,  if  I  had 
been  reading  a  few  pages  of  accounts  of  battles  with  the  praises 
of  the  heroes  which  are  the  natural  continuation  of  those 
accounts,  to  think  that  the  death  of  my  poor  husband  and  my 
own  widowed  grief  were  comprised  as  items  in  a  similar  grand 
historical  process.  I  say  "  sometimes  '*—  not  always.  I  could 
not  get  myself  back  entirely  and  absolutely  into  the  feelings 
of  my  girlhood,  when  I  wanted  to  rival  the  Maid  of  Orleans. 
Much,  very  much,  in  the  over-wrought  tirades  of  glory,  which 
accompanied  the  accounts  of  the  battles,  sounded  to  me  false 
and  hollow,  if  at  the  same  time  I  set  before  me  the  terrors  of 
the  fight — as  false  and  hollow  as  a  sham  coin  paid  as  the  price 
for  a  genuine  pearl.  The  pearl,  life — can  it  be  fairly  paid  for 
with  the  tinsel  phrases  of  historical  glory  ? 

I  had  soon  exhausted  the  provision  of  historical  works  to  be 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  47 

found  in  our  library.  I  begged  our  bookseller  to  send  me  some 
new  historical  work  to  look  at.  He  sent  Thomas  Buckle's 
History  of  Civilisation  in  England,  "  The  work  is  not 
finished,"  wrote  the  bookseller,  "but  the  accompanying  two 
volumes,  which  form  the  introduction,  compose  by  themselves 
a  complete  whole,  and  their  appearance  has  excited,  not  only 
in  England,  but  in  the  rest  of  the  educated  world,  the  greatest 
attention.  The  author,  it  is  said,  has  in  this  work  laid  the 
foundation  for  a  new  conception  of  history." 

Yes,  indeed,  quite  a  new  one.  When  I  had  read  these  two 
volumes,  and  then  read  them  again,  I  felt  like  a  man  who  had 
dwelt  all  his  life  in  the  bottom  of  a  narrow  valley,  and  then,  for 
the  first  time,  had  been  taken  up  to  one  of  the  mountain  tops 
around,  from  which  a  long  stretch  of  country  was  to  be  seen, 
covered  with  buildings  and  gardens  and  ending  in  the  boundless 
ocean.  I  will  not  assert  that  I — only  twenty  years  old  and  who 
had  received  only  the  well-known  superficial  "  young  lady's  " 
education — understood  the  book  in  all  the  extent  of  its  bearings, 
or,  to  keep  to  the  former  metaphor,  that  I  appreciated  the 
loftiness  of  the  monumental  buildings  and  the  immensity  of 
the  ocean  which  lay  before  my  astonished  gaze ;  but  I  was 
dazzled,  overcome;  I  saw  that  beyond  the  narrow  valley  in 
which  I  was  born  there  lay  a  wide,  wide  world,  of  which,  up  to 
this  time,  I  had  never  heard.  It  is  not  till  now  that,  after 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  I  have  read  the  book  again  and  have 
studied  other  works  conceived  in  the  same  spirit,  I  may, 
perhaps,  take  it  on  myself  to  say  that  I  understand  it.  One 
thing,  however,  was  clear  to  me  even  then  :  that  the  history  of 
mankind  was  not  decided  by,  as  the  old  theory  taught,  kings 
and  statesmen,  nor  by  the  wars  and  treaties  that  were  created 
by  the  greed  of  the  former  or  the  cunning  of  the  latter,  but  by 
the  gradual  development  of  the  intellect.  The  chronicles  of 
courts  and  battles  which  are  strung  together  in  the  history 
books  represent  isolated  phenomena  of  the  condition  of  culture 
at  those  epochs,  not  the  causes  which  produce  those  conditions. 
Of  the  old-fashioned  admiration  with  which  other  historical 


40  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

writers  are  accustomed  to  relate  the  lives  of  mighty  conquerors 
and  devastators  of  countries  I  could  find  absolutely  nothing  in 
Buckle.  On  the  contrary,  he  brings  proof  that  the  estimation 
in  which  the  warrior  class  is  held  is  in  inverse  ratio  to  the  height 
of  culture  which  the  nation  has  reached ;  the  lower  you  go  in 
the  barbaric  past,  the  more  frequent  are  the  wars  of  the  time, 
the  narrower  the  limits  of  peace,  province  against  province, 
city  against  city,  family  against  family.  He  lays  stress  on  the 
fact  that,  as  society  progresses,  not  only  war  itself,  but  the  love 
of  war  will  be  found  to  diminish.  That  word  spoke  to  my 
innermost  heart.  Even  in  my  short  spiritual  experience  this 
diminution  had  been  going  on,  and  though  I  had  often  repressed 
this  movement  as  something  cowardly  or  unworthy,  believing 
that  I  alone  was  the  cause  of  such  a  fault  within  me,  now,  on 
the  contrary,  I  perceived  that  this  feeling  in  me  was  only  the 
faint  echo  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  that  learned  men  and  thinkers, 
like  this  English  historian,  and  innumerable  men  along  with 
him,  had  lost  the  old  idolatry  for  war,  which,  just  as  it  had  been 
a  phase  of  my  childhood,  was  represented  in  this  book  as  being 
also  a  phase  of  the  childhood  of  society. 

And  so  in  Buckle's  History  of  Civilisation  I  had  found  just 
the  opposite  of  what  I  sought.  And  yet  I  counted  what  I  found 
as  all  pure  gain.  I  felt  myself  elevated  by  it,  enlightened, 
pacified.  Once  I  tried  to  talk  with  my  father  about  this 
point  of  view  that  I  had  just  attained,  but  in  vain.  He  would^. 
not  follow  me  up  the  mountain,  /.^.,  he  would  not  read  the 
book,  and  so  it  was  to  no  purpose  to  talk  with  him  of  things 
which  one  could  only  see  from  the  top  of  it. 

Now  followed  the  year — my  second  phase — in  which  mourn- 
ing turned  into  melancholy.  I  now  read  and  studied  with 
even  greater  assiduity.  This  first  work  of  Buckle  had  given 
me  an  appetite  for  reflection,  and  given  me  an  inkling  of  an 
enlarged  view  of  the  world.  I  wanted  now  to  enjoy  this  yet 
more  and  more ;  and  therefore  I  followed  this  book  up  with 
a  great  many  more  conceived  in  the  same  spirit.  And  the 
interest,  the  enjoyment,  which  I  found  in  these  studies  helped 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  49 

me  to  pass  into  the  third  phase,  /.^.,  to  cause  the  disappearance  of 
my  melancholy.  But  when  the  last  change  was  wrought  in  me, 
ix.y  when  my  joy  in  life  awoke  again,  then  all  at  once  books 
contented  me  no  longer,  then  I  saw  all  at  once  that  ethno- 
graphy and  anthropology,  comparative  mythology,  and  all  the 
other  'ologies  and  'graphics  were  insufficient  to  set  my  longings 
at  rest,  that  for  a  young  woman  in  my  position,  life  had  other 
flowers  of  bliss  all  ready,  and  for  which  I  had  only  to  stretch 
my  hand  out.  And  so  it  came  about  that  in  the  winter  of  1863 
I  offered  myself  to  introduce  my  younger  sisters  into  the  world 
and  opened  my  saloons  to  Vienna  society. 


••  Martha,  Countess  Dotzky,  a  rich  young  widow."  It  was 
under  this  promising  title  that  I  had  to  play  my  part  in  the 
comedy  of  the  "  great  world  ".  And  I  must  say  that  the  cha- 
racter suited  me.  It  is  no  slight  pleasure  to  get  greetings  from 
all  sides,  to  be  fited,  spoiled,  on  all  hands,  and  overwhelmed 
with  distinctions.  It  is  no  slight  enjoyment,  after  nearly  four 
years'  separation  from  the  world,  to  come  all  at  once  into  a 
whirlpool  of  all  sorts  of  pleasures,  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  interesting  and  influential  persons,  to  be  present  at  some 
splendid  entertainment  almost  every  day,  and  when  there  to 
feel  yourself  the  centre  of  universal  attention. 

We  three  sisters  had  got  the  nickname  of  the  "three  goddesses 
of  Mount  Ida";  and  the  "Apples  of  Discord,**  which  the  several 
young  Parises  distributed  amongst  us,  were  innumerable.  I,  of 
course,  in  the  dignity  of  my  description  in  the  list  of  dramatis 
persona  as  "rich  young  widow,"  was  the  one  generally  pre- 
ferred. Besides  it  was  taken  as  a  settled  thing  in  our  family, 
and  even  ever  so  little  in  my  own  inward  consciousness,  that  I 
was  to  marry  again.  Aunt  Mary  was  no  longer  in  the  habit  in 
her  homilies  of  dwelling  on  the  blessed  one  who  "  was  waiting 
for  me  above,'*  for  if  I,  in  my  few  short  years  on  earth  that 
separated  me  from  the  grave,  united  myself  to  a  second  hus- 
band, an  event  desired  by  Aunt  Mary  herself,  the  pleasantness 

4 


50  LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

of  the  meeting  again  in  Heaven  would  be  a  good  deal  spoiled 
thereby. 

Every  one  around  me  seemed  to  have  forgotten  Amo's  exist- 
ence. I  was  the  only  one  who  did  not.  Though  time  had  relieved 
my  pain  about  him,  his  image  had  not  been  extinguished.  One 
may  cease  to  mourn  for  one's  dead;  mourning  does  not 
depend  quite  on  the  will,  but  one  ought  not  to  forget  them. 
I  looked  on  this  dead  silence  about  the  dead,  which  was  pre- 
served by  my  entourage^  as  a  second  and  additional  slaughter, 
and  shrank  from  killing  the  poor  fellow  in  my  thoughts.  I  had 
made  it  my  duty  to  speak  every  day  to  little  Rudolf  of  his 
father,  and  the  child  had  always  to  say  in  his  prayers  at  night : 
"God  make  me  good  and  brave  as  my  dear  father  Arno 
would  have  me  !  " 

My  sisters  and  I  "amused"  ourselves  extremely,  and 
certainly  I  not  less  than  they.  It  was,  so  to  speak,  my  dehvt 
also  in  society.  The  first  time  I  was  introduced  as  an  engaged 
girl,  and  a  newly-married  woman ;  and  so  all  admirers  had  of 
course  held  aloof  from  me ;  and  what  is  a  higher  enjoyment 
in  society  than  the  admirers?  But,  strange  to  say,  however 
much  I  was  pleased  to  be  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  wor- 
shippers, none  of  them  made  any  deep  impression  on  me. 
There  was  a  bar  between  them  and  me  which  was  quite 
impassable.  And  this  bar  was  what  I  had  been  erecting  during 
my  three  years  of  lonely  study  and  thought.  All  these  bril- 
liant young  gentlemen,  whose  interests  in  h'fe  culminated  in 
sport,  the  ballet,  the  chatter  of  the  court,  or  (with  those  who 
soared  highest)  in  professional  ambition  (for  most  were  soldiers), 
had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the  things  which  I  had  looked  at 
from  afar  in  my  books,  and  on  which  my  soul's  life  depended. 
That  language,  of  which  I  grant  I  had  only  as  yet  learned  the 
elements — but  as  to  which  I  was  assured  that  it  was  in  it  that 
men  of  science  would  debate  and  ultimately  decide  the  highest 
questions — that  language  was  to  them  not  Greek  merely,  but 
Patagonian. 

From  this  category  of  young  folks  I  was  not  going  to  select 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  51 

a  husband ;  chat  was  quite  settled.  Besides,  I  was  in  no  hurry 
to  give  up  once  more  ray  freedom,  which  was  very  pleasant  to 
me.  I  managed  to  keep  my  would-be  suitors  sufficiently  at  a 
distance  to  prevent  any  from  making  an  offer,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  prevent  anybody  in  society  from  putting  about  con- 
cerning me  the  compromising  rumour  that  I  was  laying  myself 
out  for  lovers.  My  son  Rudolf  should  hereafter  be  able  to 
feel  proud  of  his  mother,  no  breath  of  suspicion  should  sully 
the  pure  mirror  of  her  reputation.  But  if  the  case  should 
occur  that  my  heart  should  glow  once  more  with  love — and 
that  could  only  be  for  one  worthy  of  it — then  I  was  fully 
disposed  to  realise  the  claim  which  my  youth  still  had  to 
happiness  in  this  world,  and  enter  into  a  second  marriage. 

Meanwhile,  apart  from  love  or  happiness,  I  thoroughly 
enjoyed  myself.  The  dance,  the  theatre,  dress — I  found  the 
liveliest  pleasure  in  all  of  them.  But  I  did  not  for  them 
neglect  either  my  little  Rudolf  or  my  own  education.  It  was 
not  that  I  plunged  into  special  studies,  but  I  always  kept  au 
courant  with  the  movement  of  the  intellectual  world,  by  pro- 
curing all  the  most  prominent  new  productions  in  the  literature 
of  the  age,  and  regularly  reading  attentively  all  the  articles, 
even  the  most  scientific,  in  the  Revue  des  deux  Mondes  and 
similar  magazines.  These  occupations  had  indeed  the  result 
that  the  bar  I  have  just  spoken  of,  which  cut  off  my  inward  life 
from  the  surrounding  world  of  young  men  of  fashion,  became 
constantly  higher — but  it  was  right  that  it  should  be  so.  I 
would  gladly  have  drawn  into  my  saloons  a  few  persons  from 
the  world  of  literature  and  scholarship,  but  that  could  hardly 
be  done  in  the  society  in  which  I  moved.  Bourgeois  elements 
could  not  be  mixed  with  what  was  called  "the  circles"  of 
Vienna.  Especially  at  that  period — since  then  this  exclusive 
spirit  has  somewhat  changed,  and  it  has  become  the  fashion 
to  open  one's  saloons  to  individual  representatives  of  art  and 
science.  At  the  time  of  which  I  speak  this  was  not  the  case 
yet;  any  one  not  "  Hof-fahig,"  i.e.,  who  could  not  count  sixteen 
ancestors,  was  excluded  thence.     Our  ordinary  society  would 


5a  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS, 

have  been  most  unpleasantly  surprised  to  have  met  at  my  house 
people  not  ennobled,  and  could  not  have  hit  on  the  right  tone 
to  converse  with  them.  And  these  persons  themselves  would 
certainly  have  found  my  drawing-room,  full  of  countesses  and 
sportsmen,  old  generals  and  old  canonesses,  intolerably  dull. 
What  part  could  men  of  intellect  and  science,  writers  and  artists, 
take  in  the  eternally  same  conversation — who  had  given  a  dance 
yesterday  and  who  would  give  one  to-morrow — whether  Schwar- 
zenberg,  or  Pallavicini,  or  the  Court — what  love  affairs  Baroness 
Pacher  was  causing — which  party  Countess  Palffy  was  opposing 
— how  many  estates  Prince  Croy  possessed — what  right  the  young 
Lady  Almasy  possessed  to  the  title  of  a  lady  of  rank,  whether 
as  a  Festetics  or  a  Wentheim,  and  if  a  Wentheim  whether  by 
that  Wentheim  whose  mother  became  a  Khevenhiiller,  etc.  ? 
That  was  indeed  the  matter  of  most  of  the  conversations  that 
went  on  around  me.  Even  the  intellectual  and  educated 
people,  some  of  whom  were  really  to  be  found  in  our  circle, 
statesmen  and  so  forth,  thought  themselves  bound  when  they 
associated  with  us,  the  young  folks  who  danced,  to  adopt  the 
same  frivolous  and  meaningless  tone.  How  gladly  would  I 
often  have  gone  to  some  dinner  in  a  quiet  corner  at  which  one 
or  two  of  our  travelled  diplomatists  or  eloquent  parliamen- 
tarians, or  other  men  of  mark  might  express  their  opinions  on 
weighty  questions  ! — but  that  was  not  feasible.  I  had  to  keep 
along  with  the  other  young  ladies,  and  talk  of  the  toilettes 
that  we  were  getting  ready  for  the  next  great  ball  And  even 
if  I  had  squeezed  into  such  a  company  the  conversations  that 
might  have  been  just  begun  about  the  economy  of  nations, 
about  Byron's  poetry,  about  the  theories  of  Strauss  and  Renan, 
would  have  been  hushed,  and  the  talk  would  have  been:  "Ah, 
Countess  Dotzky,  how  charming  you  looked  yesterday  at  the 
ladies'  pic-nic ;  and  are  you  going  to-morrow  to  the  reception 
at  the  Russian  embassy?" 

1    "Allow  me,  dear  Martha,"  said  my  cousin  Conrad  Althaus, 
"  to  introduce  to  you  Lieutenant-Colonel  Baron  Tilling." 
I  bowed.     The  introducer  went  away,  and  the  one  iotro 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  53  . 

duced  did  not  speak.  I  took  this  for  an  invitation  to  dance, 
and  rose  fiom  my  seat  with  my  left  arm  raised  and  bent,  ready 
to  lay  it  on  Baron  Tilling's  shoulder. 

"Forgive  me,  countess,"  he  said,  with  a  slight  smile,  which 
showed  his  dazzlingly  white  teeth,  "  I  do  not  dance.*' 

"  Indeed !  so  much  the  better,"  I  answered,  sitting  down 
again.     "  I  had  just  retreated  here  to  get  a  little  repose." 

"  And  I  had  requested  the  honour  of  being  introduced  to 
you,  countess,  as  I  had  a  communication  to  make  to  you." 

I  looked  up  in  amazement.  The  baron  put  on  a  very 
serious  face.  He  was  altogether  a  man  who  looked  very 
serious,  no  longer  young,  somewhere  about  forty,  with  a  few 
streaks  of  grey  on  the  temples — on  the  whole,  a  prepossessing 
sympathetic  look.  I  had  accustomed  myself  to  look  sharply 
on  each  new  introduction  with  the  question :  "  Are  you  a 
suitor?  and  should  I  take  you?"  Both  questions  I  answered 
in  this  case  with  a  prompt  negative.  The  person  before  me 
had  not  that  expression  of  intimate  adoration  which  all  those 
are  in  the  habit  of  assuming  who  approach  ladies  with  **  views,^ 
as  the  saying  is,  and  the  other  question  was  resolved  in  the 
negative  at  once  by  his  uniform.  I  would  give  my  hand  to  no 
soldier  a  second  time,  that  I  had  absolutely  fixed  with  myself, 
not  alone  because  I  would  not  be  again  exposed  to  the 
horrible  pain  of  seeing  my  husband  depart  to  the  campaign, 
but  because  since  that  time  I  had  arrived  at  views  about  war 
in  which  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  agree  with  a 
soldier. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  v.  Tilling  did  not  avail  himself  of  my 
invitation  to  sit  beside  me. 

"  I  will  not  intrude  on  you  long,  countess.  What  I  have  to 
communicate  to  you  is  not  suited  for  a  ballroom.  I  only 
wanted  to  ask  you  for  permission  to  present  myself  in  your 
house ;  could  you  be  so  very  kind  as  to  fix  a  day  and  hour  in 
which  I  may  speak  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  receive  on  Saturdays  between  two  and  four." 

"  Then  yoiu*  house  between  two  and  four  on  Saturday  most 


y4  I^Y   DOWN   YOUR  ARMl. 

likely  i  MtM^lew  a  bee-hive,  where  the  honey  bees  are  flyjng  in 
and  out/ 

"  And  I  sit  in  the  middle  as  queen  you  would  say,  a  very 
pretty  compliment." 

"  I  never  make  compliments,  no  more  than  I  make  honey, 
so  the  hour  of  swarming  on  Saturday  does  not  suit  me  at  all. 
I  must  speak  to  you  alone.** 

"You  awaken  my  curiosity.  Let  us  say  then  to-morrow, 
Tuesday,  at  the  same  hour.  I  will  be  at  home  to  you  and  no 
one  else." 

He  thanked  me,  bowed,  and  went  away.  A  little  later  my 
cousin  Conrad  came  by.  I  called  him  to  me,  got  him  to  sit 
by  my  side,  and  asked  for  information  about  Baron  Tilling. 

"Does  he  please  you?  Has  he  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  you  that  you  ask  after  hira  so  eagerly?  He  is  to 
be  had,  /.^.,  he  is  not  yet  married.  Still  he  may  not  be  free 
for  all  that.  It  is  whispered  that  a  very  great  lady  (Althaus 
named  a  princess  of  the  royal  family)  holds  him  to  herself  by 
tender  bonds,  and  therefore  he  does  not  marry.  His  regimeni 
has  only  recently  been  moved  hither,  and  so  he  has  not  been 
much  seen  in  society  as  yet;  and  he  is  also  it  seems  an  enemy  ot 
balls  and  things  of  that  sort.  I  made  his  acquaintance  in  the 
Nobles'  Club,  where  he  passes  an  hour  or  two  every  day,  but 
generally  over  the  papers  in  the  reading-room,  or  absorbed  in  a 
game  of  chess  with  some  of  our  best  players.  I  was  astonished 
to  meet  him  here ;  however,  as  the  lady  of  the  house  is  his 
cousin,  that  explains  his  short  appearance  at  the  ball ;  he  is  off 
again  already.  As  soon  as  he  had  taken  leave  of  you,  I  saw 
him  go  out." 

"  Have  you  introduced  him  to  many  other  ladies  besides  ?  " 

"  No,  only  to  you.  But  you  must  not  imagine  from  that  that 
you  have  brought  him  down  at  a  long  shot,  and  that  therefore 
he  is  anxious  to  know  you.  He  asked  me:  *  Could  you  tell  me 
whether  a  certain  Countess  Dotzky,  nie  Althaus,  probably  a 
relation  of  yours,  is  here  at  present  ?  I  want  to  speak  to  her.' 
'  Yes,'  I  answered,  pointing  to  you,  '  sitting  in  that  comer  on 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  55 

the  sofa,  il  a  blue  dress.'  *  Oh,  that  is  she  I  Will  you  be  so 
kind  as  to  introduce  me  ?  *  That  I  did  with  much  pleasure, 
without  any  idea  that  I  might  be  ruining  your  peace  of  mind 
thereby." 

"  Don't  talk  such  nonsense,  Conrad.  My  peace  is  not  so 
easily  disturbed.  Tilling?  Of  what  family  is  he?  I  have 
never  heard  the  name  before." 

"  Aha  !  you  will  not  confess  !  Perhaps  he  is  the  favoured 
one !  I  have  tried  by  the  exercise  of  all  my  power  of  witchery 
to  penetrate  into  your  heart  for  the  last  three  months,  but  in 
vain  1  And  now  this  cold  lieutenant-colonel — for,  let  me  tell 
you,  he  is  cold  and  without  feeling — came,  saw,  and  conquered. 
Of  what  family  is  Tilling,  do  you  say?  I  believe  of  Hanoverian 
origin.  But  his  father  before  him  was  in  the  Austrian  service. 
His  mother  is  a  Prussian.  You  must  surely  have  noticed  his 
North  German  accent." 

"Yes,  he  speaks  most  beautiful  German." 

"Of  course.  Everything  about  him  is  most  beautiful." 
Althaus  got  up.  "  Well,  I  have  had  quite  enough  now.  Per- 
mit me  to  leave  you  to  your  dreams.  I  will  try  to  entertain 
myself  with  ladies  who " 

"  May  appear  most  beautiful  in  your  eyes.  There  are  plenty 
such." 

I  left  the  ball  early.  My  sisters  could  remain  behind  under 
Aunt  Mary's  guard,  and  there  was  nothing  to  detain  me.  The 
desire  for  dancing  had  left  me.  I  felt  tired,  and  longed  for 
solitude.  Why?  Surely  not  to  have  the  opportunity  for 
thinking  about  Tilling  without  interruption  ?  Still  it  seemed 
so.  For  it  was  about  midnight  that  I  enriched  the  red  book  by 
transferring  into  it  the  conversation  above  set  down,  and  added 
the  following  obser\-ations  :  "  An  interesting  man  this  Tilling. 
The  great  lady  who  is  in  love  with  him  is  thinking  probably 
about  him  now,  or  perhaps  at  this  moment  he  is  kneeling  at 
her  feet,  and  she  is  not  so  lonely — so  lonely  as  I  am.  Ah, 
to  love  any  one  so  entirely  and  inwardly  !  Not  Tilling,  of 
course — I  do  not  know  him  even.     I  envy  the  princess,  not  on 


56  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

account  of  Tilling,  but  on  account  of  her  being  beloved.  And 
the  more  passionately,  the  more  warmly  she  is  attached  to  him, 
so  much  the  more  I  envy  her." 

My  first  thought  on  waking  was  once  more — Tilling.  And 
naturally,  for  he  had  made  an  appointment  with  me  for  to-day, 
on  account  of  some  important  communication.  Not  for  a  long 
time  had  I  felt  so  excited  as  I  was  about  this  visit. 

At  the  appointed  hour  I  gave  orders  that  no  one  should  be 
admitted  except  the  gentleman  expected.  My  sisters  were  not 
at  home.  Aunt  Mary,  that  indefatigable  chaperon,  had  gone 
with  them  to  the  skating  rink. 

I  placed  myself  in  my  little  drawing-room,  in  a  pretty  house 
dress  of  violet  velvet  (violet,  it  is  allowed,  suits  blonde  com- 
plexions), took  a  book  in  my  hand  and  waited.  I  had  not 
to  wait  long.  At  ten  minutes  past  two  Freiherr  v.  Tilling 
entered. 

"  You  see,  countess,  I  have  punctually  availed  myself  of  your 
permission,"  he  said,  kissing  my  hand.* 

"Luckily  so,"  I  answered  laughingly,  as  I  showed  him  a 
chair,  *'  otherwise  I  should  have  died  of  impatience ;  for  really 
you  have  thrown  me  into  a  state  of  great  suspense." 

"  Then  I  will  say  what  I  have  got  to  say  at  once,  without 
any  long  introduction.  The  reason  I  did  not  do  so  yesterday 
was  in  order  not  to  disturb  your  serenity." 

"  You  frighten  me.** 

"  In  one  word,  I  was  present  at  the  battle  of  Magenta." 

"  And  you  saw  Arno  die  ?  "  I  shrieked. 

"  Yes.  I  am  in  a  position  to  give  you  information  about 
his  last  moments." 

"  Speak,"  I  said  shuddering. 

"Do  not  tremble,  countess.  If  those  last  moments  had 
been  as  horrible  as  those  of  so  many  other  of  my  comrades, 
I  would  assuredly  have  said  nothing  about  it  to  you ;  for  there 


^  This  an  Austrian  foshion,  and  does  not  imply  any  extraordinary 
attachment  or  freedom. 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  57 

is  nothing  sadder  than  to  hear  of  a  dear  one  dead  that  he  died 
in  agony:  but  that  is  not  the  case  here." 

"You  take  a  weight  off  my  heart  Go  on  with  your 
narrative." 

*'  I  will  not  repeat  to  you  the  empty  phrase  with  which  the 
survivors  of  soldiers  are  usually  comforted,  *He  died  like 
a  hero/  for  I  do  not  quite  know  what  that  means.  But  I 
can  offer  you  the  substantial  consolation  that  he  died  without 
thinking  about  death.  He  was  convinced  from  the  beginning 
that  nothing  would  happen  to  him.  We  were  much  together, 
and  he  often  told  me  of  his  domestic  happiness,  showed  me 
the  picture  of  his  beautiful  young  wife,  and  of  his  child;  he 
invited  me,  '  as  soon  as  ever  the  campaign  was  over,'  to  visit 
him  in  his  home.  In  the  massacre  of  Magenta  I  found  myself, 
by  accident,  at  his  side.  I  spare  you  the  sketch  of  the  scenes 
that  were  going  on — one  cannot  relate  such  things.  Men,  who 
have  the  warrior  spirit,  are  seized  in  the  midst  of  the  powder- 
fog  and  bullet-rain  with  such  an  intoxication  that  they  do  not 
know  exactly  what  is  going  on.  Dotzky  was  a  man  of  this  kind. 
His  eyes  sparkled.  He  laid  about  him  with  a  firm  hand. 
He  was  in  the  full  intoxication  of  war.  I  who  was  sober  could 
see  it.  Then  came  a  shell,  and  fell  a  few  steps  from  where  we 
were.  When  the  monster  burst  ten  men  were  blown  to  pieces, 
Dotzky  among  them.  There  rose  a  shriek  of  anguish  from 
the  injured  men,  but  Dotzky  gave  no  cry — he  was  dead.  I 
and  a  few  comrades  stooped  down  to  see  to  the  wounded,  and 
give  them  aid  if  possible.  But  it  was  not  possible.  They 
were  all  writhing  in  death,  terribly  torn  and  dismembered — 
the  prey  of  horrible  tortures.  But  Dotzky,  at  whose  side  I 
first  knelt  on  the  ground,  breathed  no  more;  his  heart  had 
stopped  beating,  and  out  of  his  torn  side  the  blood  was  flowing 
in  such  a  stream  that  if  even  his  state  was  only  faintness  and 
not  death,  there  was  no  fear  that  he  would  come  to  again." 

"  Fear  ?  "  said  I  weeping. 

**  Yes,  for  we  had  to  leave  him  lying  there  helpless.  Before 
us  the  murderout  *  H urrah  !' burst  out  again,  and  behind  us 


58  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

mounted  squadrons  were  coming  on,  who  must  charge  over 
these  dying  men.  Lucky  those  who  had  lost  consciousness  ! 
His  face  had  a  perfectly  placid,  painless  look,  and  when  after 
the  battle  was  over  we  picked  up  our  dead  and  wounded,  I 
found  him  on  the  same  spot,  in  the  same  position,  and  with  the 
same  peaceful  look.  That  is  what  I  had  to  say  to  you,  coun- 
tess. I  might  indeed  have  done  so  years  since,  or,  even  if 
I  had  not  met  you,  have  written  it  to  you,  but  the  idea 
only  came  into  my  head  yesterday  when  my  cousin  said  she 
was  expecting  among  her  guests  the  beautiful  widow  of  Arno 
Dotzky.  Forgive  me  if  I  have  recalled  painful  memories.  I 
think,  however,  I  have  discharged  a  duty  and  freed  you  from 
torturing  doubts." 

He  stood  up.     I  gave  him  my  hand. 

"I  thank  you,  Baron  Tilling,"  I  said,  drying  my  tears. 
"  You  have  indeed  conferred  a  precious  gift  on  me — the  tran- 
quillity of  knowing  that  the  end  of  my  dear  husband  was  free 
from  pain  or  torment.  But  stay  a  little,  I  beg  you.  I  should 
like  to  hear  you  speak  more.  You  struck  a  note  in  your  way 
of  expressing  yourself  before  which  made  a  certain  chord 
vibrate  in  my  feelings.  Without  beating  about  the  bush,  you 
abhor  war  ?  " 

Tilling's  visage  clouded. 

"  Forgive  me,  countess,**  he  said,  "  if  I  cannot  stop  to  talk 
with  you  on  this  subject  I  am  sorry,  too,  that  I  cannot 
prolong  our  interview.     I  am  expected  elsewhere." 

It  was  now  my  countenance  which  assumed  a  cold  expres- 
sion. The  princess,  I  suppose,  was  expecting  him,  and  the 
thought  was  unpleasant  to  me. 

••  Then  I  will  not  detain  you,  colonel,"  I  said  coldly. 

Without  any  request  to  be  allowed  to  come  again,  he  bowed 
and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Progress  of  my  friendship  for  Tilling. — The  toy  soldiers, — A 
dinner  at  my  fathei's. — The  brave  Hupfauf — Darwin. — 
A  charming  tete-a-fete,  ending  in  a  misunderstanding. — 
Growing  attachment. — A  call  on  Countess  Griesbach. — 
Jealousy  dispelled. — Absence  of  the  laved  one, — A  touching 
Utter  from  Tilling  on  his  mother's  death. 

The  carnival  was  over.  Rosa  and  Lilly,  my  sisters,  had 
"amused  themselves  immensely".  Each  had  a  list  of  half-a-dozen 
conquests.  Still  there  was  no  desirable  partie  among  them, 
and  "  the  right  person  "  had  not  shown  himself  for  either.  So 
much  the  better.  They  would  gladly  enjoy  a  few  years  more 
of  maidenhood  before  taking  on  themselves  the  married  yoke. 

And  as  to  me  ?  I  noted  my  impression  of  the  carnival  in 
the  red  volume  as  follows :  "  I  am  glad  that  this  dancing  is 
over.  It  has  already  begun  to  be  monotonous.  Always  the 
same  rounds,  and  the  same  conversation,  and  the  same  dancers, 

for  whether  it  happens  to  be  X ,  lieutenant  of  hussars,  or 

Y ,  brevet-captain  of  dragoons,  or  Z ,  captain  of  uhlans, 

there  are  always  the  same  bows,  the  same  remarks,  the  same 
sighs  and  glances.  Not  an  interesting  man  amongst  them — not 
one.  And  the  only  one  who  in  any  case — we  will  say  nothing 
about  him.  He  belongs,  I  know,  to  his  princess.  She  is  a 
beautiful  woman  truly,  I  admit  it,  but  I  think  her  very  disagree- 
able." 

Though  the  carnival  with  its  great  balls  was  over,  yet 
the  enjoyment  of  society  had  not  stopped.  Soirees,  dinners, 
toncerts — the  whirl  went  on.     There  was  also  a  great  amateur 

(59) 


60  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

theatrical  performance  projected,  but  not  till  after  Easter. 
During  the  fasting  season  a  certain  moderation  in  our  pleasures 
was  enjoined  on  us.  In  Aunt  Mary's  opinion  we  were  fai 
from  being  as  moderate  as  we  ought  She  could  not  quite  for- 
give me  for  not  going  regularly  to  the  Lenten  sermons,  and 
indemnified  herself  for  my  lukewarmness  by  dragging  Rosa  and 
Lilly  to  hear  all  the  preachers  at  the  Chapel  Royal.  The  girls 
submitted  to  this  easily.  Occasionally  they  found  their  whole 
coterie  assembled  at  church.  Father  Klinkowstrom  was  as 
much  the  fashion  at  the  Jesuits'  Church  as  Mdlle.  Murska 
at  the  opera,  and  so  they  were  tolerably  gay — in  a  mild  way. 
Not  only  from  the  sermons,  however,  but  from  the  soirees 
too,  I  held  myself  a  good  deal  aloof  during  this  season.  I  had 
all  at  once  lost  my  taste  for  society  parties,  and  delighted  in 
staying  at  home  to  play  with  my  son,  and  when  the  little  fellow 
was  taken  to  bed,  to  sit  by  the  fire  with  a  good  book  and  read. 
Sometimes  my  father  visited  me  at  these  times,  and  chatted 
away  for  an  hour  or  two  with  me.  Of  course  the  campaigning 
reminiscences  came  to  the  front  then  continually.  I  had  com- 
municated to  him  Tilling's  account  of  Arno's  death,  but  he 
received  the  story  rather  coolly.  Whether  a  man's  death  was 
painful  or  painless  seemed  to  him  a  secondary  consideration. 
To  be  "left  on  the  field"-— as  death  in  battle  is  called  — 
appeared  to  him  an  end  so  glorious,  bestowed  by  such  an 
elevated  destiny,  that  the  details  of  the  bodily  suffering  which 
might  possibly  have  occurred  were  not  worth  taking  into 
account.  In  his  mouth  to  be  "left  on  the  field"  always 
sounded  like  the  grudging  admission  of  an  especial  distinction, 
and  next  to  "  being  left "  what  was  most  pleasant  evidently  was 
to  be  severely  wounded.  The  style  and  manner  in  which  he 
proudly  showed  his  respect  for  himself  or  any  one  else  in  say- 
ing that  he  had  been  wounded  at  a  fight  named  after  this  or 
that  place  made  one  quite  forget  that  the  thing  in  itself  could 
have  given  anybody  pain.  What  a  difference  from  Tilling's 
short  recital  1  in  his  sketch  of  the  ten  poor  creatures  who  were 
shattered  by  the  bursting  shell,  and  broke  out  in  loud  shrieks  \ 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMl.  6l 

What  a  different  tone  of  shuddering  pity  in  it  f  I  did  not 
repeat  Tilling's  words  to  my  father,  because  I  felt  instinctively 
that  they  would  have  seemed  to  him  unsoldierly,  and  would 
have  diminished  his  respect  for  the  speaker,  which  would  have 
hurt  me,  for  it  was  just  the  horror— unsoldierly  it  might  be, 
but  certainly  nobly  humane — with  which  he  saw  and  told  of  the 
terrible  end  of  his  comrades  that  had  penetrated  into  my  heart. 

How  gladly  would  I  have  spoken  further  on  this  theme  with 
Tilling,  but  he  seemed  not  to  wish  to  cultivate  my  acquain- 
tance. Fourteen  days  had  elapsed  since  his  visit,  and  he  had 
neither  repeated  the  visit,  nor  had  I  met  him  in  society.  Only 
two  or  three  times  had  I  seen  him  in  the  Ringsstrasse,*  and  once 
at  the  Burg  Theatre.  He  bowed  respectfully,  and  I  acknow- 
ledged his  greeting  in  a  friendly  manner,  but  nothing  more. 
Nothing  more  ?  Why  did  my  heart  beat  at  these  accidental 
meetings  ?  Why  could  I  not  for  hours  get  his  gesture  as  he 
greeted  me  out  of  my  mind  ? 

"My  dear  child,  I  have  something  to  beg  of  you."  My 
father  came  into  my  house  one  morning  with  these  words.  He 
held  in  his  hand  a  parcel  wrapped  in  paper,  and  added,  "  Here 
is  something  I  am  bringing  for  you,"  as  he  laid  the  thing  on  the 
table. 

*' What,  a  request  and  a  present  together?"  I  said  laughing. 
"  That  is  bribery  indeed ! " 

"  Then  hear  my  request  before  you  unpack  my  gift,  and  are 
blinded  by  its  magnificence.     I  have  to-day  a  tedious  dinner." 

**  Yes,  I  know.     Three  old  generals  and  their  wives." 

"  And  two  Ministers  and  their  wives — in  short,  a  solemn,  stiff, 
sleepy  business." 

"  But  you  do  not  expect  that  I " 

"  Yes,  I  expect  you  there,  because,  as  ladies  are  pleased  to 
honour  me  with  their  company,  I  must  at  least  have  a  lady  to 
do  the  honours." 

"  But  Aunt  Mary  has  always  undertaken  that  office." 

*  One  fff  the  chief  streets  of  Vienna. 


63  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

*'  She  is  again  attacked  to-day  by  her  usual  headache,  and  so 
I  have  nothing  else  left " 

"But  to  oifer  up  your  daughter,  as  other  fathers  did  in 
ancient  times ;  for  example,  King  Agamemnon  with  Iphigenia  ? 
Well,  I  submit." 

"Besides,  there  are  among  the  guests  a  pair  of  younger 
elements :  Dr.  Bresser,  who  treated  me  in  my  last  illness  so 
excellently  that  I  wished  to  show  him  the  attention  of  an 
invitation ;  and  also  Lieutenant-Colonel  Tilling.  Why,  you  are 
getting  as  red  as  fire  !     What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"  Me  ?  It  is  curiosity.  Now,  I  really  must  look  at  what 
you  have  brought  me."  And  I  began  to  take  the  parcel  out  of 
its  paper  wrapping. 

"  Oh,  that  is  nothing  for  you.  Don't  expect  a  pearl  necklace. 
That  belongs  to  Rudi." 

"Yes,  I  see,  a  plaything.  Ah!  a  box  of  lead  soldiers! 
But,  father,  a  little  child  of  four  cannot " 

"  I  used  to  play  at  soldiers  when  I  was  only  three  years  old. 
You  can't  begin  too  early.  My  very  earliest  impressions  were 
of  drums,  sabres,  manceuvres,  words  of  command :  that's  the 
way  to  awaken  the  love  for  the  trade,  that's  the  way." 

"  My  son  Rudolf  shall  never  join  the  army,"  I  interrupted. 

*'  Martha  1     I  know  at  least  it  was  his  father's  wish." 

"  Poor  Amo  is  no  more.  Rudolf  is  all  I  have,  and  I  do  not 
choose " 

"  That  he  should  join  the  noblest  and  most  honourable  of 
professions?" 

"  The  life  of  my  only  child  shall  not  be  gambled  for  in  a 
war." 

"  I  was  an  only  son  also  and  became  a  soldier.  Arno  had 
no  brothers,  as  far  as  I  know,  and  your  brother  Otto  is  also  an 
only  son,  yet  I  have  sent  him  to  the  Military  Academy.  The 
tradition  of  our  family  requires  that  the  offspring  of  a  Dotzky 
and  an  Althaus  should  devote  his  services  to  his  country. " 

"  His  country  will  not  want  him  as  much  as  I.** 

"  If  all  mothers  thought  so " 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  63 

"Then  there  would  be  no  more  parades  and  reviews,  no 
walls  of  men  to  batter  down,  no  *food  for  powder,*  as  the 
common  expression  for  them  goes.  And  that  would  be  for 
from  a  misfortune." 

My  father  made  a  very  wry  face ;  but  then  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"  Oh,  you  women,"  he  said  contemptuously.  "  Luckily  the 
young  one  will  not  ask  your  permission.  The  blood  of  soldiers 
is  running  in  his  veins.  Nay,  and  he  will  surely  not  remain 
your  only  son.  You  must  marry  again,  Martha.  At  your  age 
it  is  not  good  to  be  alone.  Tell  me,  is  there  none  of  your 
suitors  that  finds  grace  in  your  sight  ?  For  instance,  there  is 
Captain  Olensky,  who  is  desperately  in  love  with  you ;  he  has 
been  just  now  pouring  out  his  sighs  to  me  again.  He  would 
suit  me  thoroughly  as  a  son-in-law." 

"  But  not  me  as  a  husband." 

"Then  there  is  Major  Millersdorf.** 

"  No ;  if  you  run  down  the  whole  military  gamut  to  me,  it  is 
in  vam.  At  what  time  does  your  dinner  take  place?  when 
shall  I  come  ?  "  I  said  to  turn  the  subject 

"  At  five.  But  come  half-an-hour  earlier ;  and  now,  adieu — 
I  must  go.  Kiss  Rudi  for  me— the  future  commander-in-chief 
of  the  Imperial  and  Royal  Army.** 

A  solemn,  stiff,  sleepy  business,  that  is  how  my  father  qualified 
his  proposed  dinner,  and  that  is  how  I  should  have  looked  on 
the  ceremony  also  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  one  guest  whose 
presence  moved  me  in  a  singular  way. 

Baron  Tilling  came  the  instant  before  the  meat — so  when  he 
saluted  me  in  the  drawing-room  I  had  no  time  for  more  than 
the  briefest  exchange  of  words ;  and  at  table,  where  I  sat  between 
two  snow-white  generals,  the  baron  was  removed  so  far  from 
me  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  draw  him  into  the  conversa- 
tion carried  on  at  our  end  of  the  table.  I  was  pleased  at  the 
return  into  the  drawing-room ;  there  I  meant  to  call  Tilling  to 
me  and  question  him  still  further  about  that  battle-scene :  I 


64  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

longed  to  hear  again  that  tone  of  voice  which  had  at  first 
sounded  so  sympathetically  in  my  ears. 

But  no  opportunity  offered  itself  to  me  at  first  to  carry  out 
this  intention;  the  two  old  generals  kept  constant  to  me  after 
dinner  too,  and  sat  down  at  my  side  when  I  took  my  place  in 
the  drawing-room  to  pour  out  caft  noir.  To  them  joined  them- 
selves in  a  semicircle  my  father,  the  Minister,  Dr.  Bresser,  and, 
finally,  Tilling,  but  the  conversation  which  arose  was  on  general 
topics.  The  rest  of  the  guests — all  the  ladies  among  them — 
had  got  together  in  another  corner  of  the  drawing-room  where 
smoking  was  not  going  on ;  whilst  in  our  corner  smoking  was 
allowed,  and  even  I  myself  had  lighted  a  cigarette. 

"  Suppose  it  should  soon  break  out  again  ?  "  suggested  one 
of  the  old  generals. 

"Hum,"  said  the  other,  "  I  think  the  next  war  we  shall  have 
will  be  with  Russia." 

"  Must  there  always  be  a  *  next  war  *  ?  "  I  interposed,  but  no 
one  took  any  notice. 

"  With  Italy  first,"  my  father  persisted ;  "  we  must  at  all 
events  get  back  our  Lombardy.  Just  such  a  march  into  Milan 
as  we  had  in  '49  with  Father  Radetzky  at  our  head.  I  should 
like  to  live  to  see  that.     It  was  on  a  sunny  morning " 

"  Oh,"  I  interrupted,  "  we  all  know  the  story  of  the  entry 
into  Milan." 

"And  do  you  know  also  that  of  the  brave  Hupfauf?** 

"I  do ;  and  I  think  it  very  revolting." 

"  What  do  you  understand  of  such  things  ?  " 

"  Let  us  hear  it,  Althaus ;  we  do  not  know  the  story." 

My  father  did  not  wait  to  be  asked  twice. 

"Well,  this  Hupfauf,  of  the  regiment  of  Tyrolese  Jaegers, 
he  was  a  Tyrolese  himself;  he  did  a  famous  piece  of  work.  He 
was  the  best  shot  that  can  be  imagined ;  he  was  always  king 
at  all  the  shooting  matches ;  he  hit  the  mark  almost  always. 
What  did  he  do  when  the  Milanese  revolted  ?  Why,  he  begged 
for  permission  to  go  on  the  roof  of  the  cathedral  with  four 
comrades,  and  fire  down  from  thence  on  the  rebels.     He  got 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  65 

permission  and  carried  out  his  plan.  The  four  others,  each  of 
whom  carried  a  rifle,  did  nothing  else  but  load  their  weapons 
without  intermission  and  hand  them  to  Hupfauf,  so  that  he 
might  lose  no  time.  And  in  this  way  he  shot  ninety  Italians 
dead,  one  after  the  other.*' 

"Horrible!"  I  cried  out  "Each  of  these  slaughtered 
Italians  on  whom  that  man  fired  down  from  his  safe  position 
above  had  a  mother  and  a  sweetheart  at  home,  and  was 
himself  no  doubt  reckoning  on  his  opening  life." 

"My  dear,  all  of  them  were  enemies,  and  that  alters  the 
whole  point  of  view." 

"  Very  true,"  said  Dr.  Bresser ;  "  as  long  as  the  idea  of  a  state 
of  enmity  between  men  is  sanctioned,  so  long  the  precepts  of 
humanity  cannot  be  of  universal  application." 

"  What  say  you.  Baron  Tilling  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  should  have  wished  for  the  man  a  decoration  to  adorn 
his  valiant  breast,  and  a  bullet  to  pierce  his  hard  heart  Both 
would  have  been  well  deserved." 

I  threw  the  speaker  a  warm,  thankful  glance ;  but  the  others, 
except  the  doctor,  seemed  affected  unpleasantly  by  the  words 
they  had  just  heard.  A  little  pause  ensued.  As  the  French 
say:  **  Cela  avaitjetk  unfroid", 

"  Have  you  ever  heard,  excellency,  of  a  book  by  an  English 
natural  philosopher  named  Darwin  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  turning 
to  my  father. 

"No,  never." 

"  Oh  yes,  papa,  just  recollect.  It  is  now  four  years  ago  since 
our  bookseller  sent  us  the  book,  just  after  its  appearance,  and 
you  then  said  it  would  soon  be  forgotten  by  the  whole  world." 

"  Well,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  have  quite  forgotten  it." 

"  The  world  in  general,  on  the  contrary,  seems  in  a  pretty 
state  of  excitement  about  it,"  said  the  doctor.  "  There  is  a 
fight  going  on  for  or  against  the  new  theory  of  origin  in  every 
place." 

**  Ah,  you  mean  the  ape  theory  ? "  asked  the  general  on  my 
right     "  There  was  a  talk  'ibout  that  yesterday  in  the  casino. 

5 


66  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

These  scientific  gentlemen  hit  on  strange  notions  sometimes 
— that  a  man  should  have  been  an  ourang-outang  to  begin 
with!" 

"To  be  sure,"  said  the  Minister  nodding  (and  when  Minister 

said  "  to  be  sure  "  it  was  always  a  sign  that  he  was  making 

himself  up  for  a  long  talk),  *'  the  thing  sounds  rather  funny,  and 
yet  it  is  capable  of  being  taken  seriously.  It  is  a  scientific 
theory  built  up  not  without  talent,  and  with  the  apparatus  of 
an  industrious  collection  of  facts ;  and  though,  to  be  sure,  these 
have  been  satisfactorily  controverted  by  the  specialists,  yet  like 
all  adventurous  notions,  however  extravagant  they  may  be,  it 
has  produced  a  certain  effect,  and  finds  its  defenders.  It  has 
become  a  fashion  to  discuss  Darwin ;  but  this  will  not  last  long 
— though  the  word  Darwinism  has  been  invented — and  then, 
to  be  sure,  the  so-called  theory  will  itself  cease  to  be  taken 
seriously.  It  is  a  pity  that  people  get  so  hot  fighting  over  this 
eccentric  Englishman ;  his  theory  thus  acquires  an  importance 
to  which  it  has  no  claim.  It  is,  of  course,  the  clergy  who 
especially  set  themselves  in  array  against  the  imputation,  which, 
to  be  sure,  is  a  degrading  one,  that  man,  created  in  the 
image  of  God,  should  now  all  of  a  sudden  be  thought  to  be 
derived  from  the  race  of  brutes — an  assumption  which,  to  be 
sure,  is  very  shocking  from  a  religions  point  of  view.  Still  it 
is  notorious  that  ecclesiastical  condemnation  of  a  theory  which 
introduces  itself  in  the  garb  of  science  is  not  capable  of  stop- 
ping its  dissemination.  Such  a  theory  does  not  become  harm- 
less till  it  has  been  reduced  ad  absurdum  by  the  representatives 
of  science,  and  that  in  respect  of  Darwinism,  to  be  sure " 

"But  what  nonsense!"  broke  in  my  father,  fearful,  as  it 
seemed,  that  another  long  string  of  "  to  be  sures  "  might  weary 
the  rest  of  his  guests,  **  what  nonsense  !  From  apes  to  men  ! 
Surely  what  is  called  the  ordinary  healthy  common-sense  is 
enough  to  refute  all  such  mad  notions — scientific  refutation 
is  hardly  wanted." 

'*  Well,  I  can  scarcely  regard  these  refutations  as  so  perfectly 
and   demonstrably  certain,"   said  the  doctor.     "They  have, 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  67 

ft  is  true,  awakened  reasonable  doubts  of  it ;  but,  still,  the 
theory  has  much  probability  in  its  favour,  and  it  will  take  some 
little  time  to  bring  men  of  learning  to  unanimity  about  it." 

**  I  think  these  gentry  will  never  be  unanimous,**  said  the 
general  on  my  left,  who  spoke  with  a  harsh  accent,  and  gene- 
rally used  the  Viennese  dialect ;  "  why,  they  live  by  disputing. 
I  have  also  heard  something  of  this  ape  business.  But  it  was 
too  stupid,  to  my  mind,  to  suit  me.  Why,  if  one  bothered 
oneself  about  all  the  chatter  that  the  star-gazers  and  grass- 
collectors  and  frog-dissectors  use  to  make  us  believe  that  X  is 
Y,  one  should  lose  one*s  ears  and  eyes.  Besides,  a  little  while 
ago,  in  an  illustrated  paper,  I  saw  the  visage  of  this  Darwin, 
and  that  is  itself  so  apish  that  I  can  well  believe  his  grandfather 
was  a  chimpanzee." 

This  joke,  which  pleased  the  speaker  mightily,  was  followed 
by  a  burst  of  laughter,  in  which  my  father  joined  with  the 
affability  of  a  host. 

"Ridicule  is,  to  be  sure,  a  weapon,**  said  the  Minister 
seriously,  **  but  it  does  not  prove  anything.  It  is  possible 
however,  to  meet  Darwinism— I  may  use  this  new  term— ^and 
conquer  it,  with  serious  arguments  resting  on  a  scientific 
basis.  If  one  can  oppose  to  an  author  of  no  authority  such 
names  as  Linnaeus,  Cuvier,  Agassiz,  Quatrefages,  his  system 
must  fall  in  pieces.  On  the  other  hand,  to  be  sure,  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  between  men  and  apes  there  is  a  great  similarity 
of  structure  and  that *' 

"  In  spite  of  this  similarity,  however,  the  cleft  is  miles  wide,* 
broke  in  the  quieter  general.  **Can  you  imagine  an  ape 
capable  of  inventing  the  telegraph  ?  Speech  alone  raises  men 
so  far  above  beasts *' 

"  I  beg  your  excellency's  pardon,**  said  Dr.  Bresser,  "  speech 
and  artistic  inventions  were  not  originally  congenital  in  man- 
kind. Even  to-day  a  savage  could  not  construct  any  sort  of 
telegraphic  apparatus.  All  this  is  the  fruit  of  slow  improvement 
Rnd  development.** 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  dear  doctor,**  replied  the  general.     "  I  know 


68  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

development '  is  the  cant  word  of  the  new  theory.  Still  you 
cannot  develop  a  camel  out  of  a  kangaroo,  and  why  does  not 
one  at  this  time  see  an  ape  turning  into  a  man  ?  " 

I  turned  to  Baron  Tilling. 

"  And  what  say  you  ?  have  you  heard  of  Darwin,  and  do  you 
reckon  yourself  among  his  followers  or  opponents  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  a  good  deal  about  the  matter,  countess,  but 
I  have  formed  no  judgment  on  it ;  for  as  to  the  work  under 
discussion.  The  Origin  of  Species^  I  have  not  read  it." 

"I  must  confess,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  I  have  not 
either." 

"  Read  it  ?  Well,  to  be  sure,  I  have  not  either,"  said  the 
Minister. 

"  Nor  I — nor  I — nor  I,"  came  from  the  rest 

"But,"  the  Minister  proceeded,  "the  subject  has  been  so 
much  spoken  of,  the  cant  words  of  the  system  *  fight  for  exis- 
tence,* *  natural  selection,'  *  evolution,*  etc.,  are  in  every- 
body's mouth,  so  that  one  can  form  a  clear  conception  of  the 
whole  matter  and  select  a  side  decidedly  with  its  supporters  or 
opponents,  to  which  first  class,  to  be  sure,  belong  only  some 
Hotspurs  who  love  violent  changes  and  are  always  grasping 
after  effect,  while  the  cool,  strictly  critical  people,  who  demand 
proof  positive,  cannot  possibly  choose  any  other  than  the  posi- 
tion of  opponents — shared  by  so  many  specialists  of  considera- 
tion— a  position  which,  to  be  sure " 

"  That  can  hardly  be  positively  asserted,"  said  Tilling,  review- 
ing the  whole  matter,  "  unless  one  knows  the  position  of  its 
supporters.  In  order  to  know  what  the  strength  of  the  oppos- 
ing arguments  is,  which,  as  soon  as  a  new  idea  comes  up,  are 
heard  shouting  in  chorus  all  round  it,  one  must  oneself  have 
penetrated  into  the  idea.  It  is  generally  the  worst  and  weakest 
reasons  which  are  repeated  by  the  masses  with  such  unanimity ; 
and  on  such  grounds  I  do  not  choose  to  pass  a  judgment. 
When  the  theory  of  Copernicus  came  up,  only  those  who  had 
gone  through  the  labour  of  following  the  calculations  of 
Copernicus  could  see  that  they  were  correct :  the  others,  who 


LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMt.  69 

guided  their  judgment  by  the  anathemas  which  were  thundered 
against  the  new  system  from  Rome " 

**In  our  century,"  interrupted  the  Minister,  "as  I  observed 
before,  scientific  hypotheses,  if  incorrect,  are  no  longer  rejected 
on  the  grounds  of  orthodoxy  but  of  science.*' 

"  Not  only  if  incorrect,"  answered  Tilling,  "  but  even  when 
they  are  going  afterwards  to  be  established,  new  hypotheses  are 
always  at  first  controverted  by  the  old  fogeys  of  science.  This 
set  does  not  like  even  in  our  day  to  be  shaken  in  their  long- 
accustomed  views  and  dogmas — ^just  as  at  that  time  it  was  not 
only  the  fathers  of  the  Church  but  the  astronomers  also  who 
were  zealous  in  attacking  Copernicus." 

"  Do  you  mean  by  this,"  broke  in  the  rough-speaking  general, 
"  that  this  ape-notion  of  our  eccentric  Englishman  is  as  correct 
as  that  the  earth  goes  round  the  sun  ?  " 

"  I  will  make  no  assertion  at  all  about  it,  because,  as  I  said,  1  do 
not  know  the  book.  But  I  will  make  a  point  of  reading  it. 
Perhaps  (but  only  perhaps,  for  my  knowledge  of  such  matters 
is  only  slight)  I  shall  then  be  able  to  form  a  judgment.  Up 
to  the  present  time  I  must  confine  myself  to  supporting  my 
opinion  on  the  fact  that  this  theory  meets  with  widespread 
and  passionate  opposition — a  fact,  *  to  be  sure,*  which,  to  my 
mind,  speaks  rather  for  than  against  its  truth." 

"  You  brave,  straightforward,  clear  spirit,"  said  I  to  myself, 
apostrophising  the  speaker. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  guests  in  general  broke  up.  My 
father  wanted  to  detain  them  all  longer,  and  I  also  murmured 
mechanically  a  few  hospitable  phrases,  e.g.^  "  At  least  you  will 
stay  for  a  cup  of  tea" — but  in  vain.  Each  produced  some 
excuse :  one  had  an  engagement  at  the  casino ;  another  at  a 
party ;  one  of  the  ladies  had  her  box  at  the  opera  and  wanted  to 
see  the  fourth  act  of  the  **  Huguenots  " ;  another  expected  some 
friends  at  her  house ;  in  short,  we  were  obliged  to  let  them  go, 
and  not  so  unwillingly  as  we  pretended.  Tilling  and  Dr. 
Bresser,  who  had  risen  at  the  same  time  as  the  others,  were  the 
last  to  take  their  leave. 


70  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"  And  what  have  you  two  so  important  to  do  ?  '*  asked  my 
father. 

"  I  myself,  nothing,"  answered  Tilling  smiling ;  "  but  as  the 
other  guests  are  going,  it  would  be  indiscreet " 

"  That  is  my  case  too,**  said  the  doctor. 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  not  let  either  of  you  go." 

A  few  minutes  later  my  father  and  the  doctor  had  seated 
themselves  at  a  card  table,  and  were  deep  in  a  game  of  piquet, 
while  Baron  Tilling  kept  close  to  the  fire  by  my  side.  "  A 
Sleepy  business,"  this  dinner?  "No,  truly  no  evening  could 
have  passed  in  a  more  pleasant  and  more  awakening  manner," 
was  the  thought  that  passed  through  my  mind.  Then  I  said 
aloud : — 

"  Really,  I  have  to  scold  you.  Baron  Tilling.  Why,  after 
your  first  visit,  have  you  forgotten  the  way  to  my 
house?" 

"  You  did  not  ask  me  to  come  again.** 

"  But  I  told  you  that  on  Saturdays " 

**0h,  yes;  between  two  and  four.  But,  frankly,  you  must  not 
expect  that  from  me,  countess.  Honestly,  I  know  of  nothing 
more  horrible  than  these  oflScial  reception  days.  To  enter  a 
drawing-room  full  of  strangers,  bow  to  the  hostess,  take  your 
seat  on  the  outer  edge  of  a  semicircle,  listen  to  remarks  about 
the  weather — and  if  one  manages  to  sit  next  to  an  acquaintance, 
venture  on  a  remark  of  one's  own  ;  to  be  distinguished  by  the 
lady  of  the  house,  in  spite  of  every  difliculty,  with  a  question 
which  you  answer  in  all  possible  haste,  in  the  hope  that  it  may 
originate  a  conversation  with  her  whom  you  came  to  see ;  but 
in  vain.  At  that  moment  comes  in  another  guest,  who  has  to 
be  received,  and  who  then  takes  the  nearest  empty  place  in  the 
semicircle,  and,  under  the  impression  that  the  subject  has  not  yet 
been  touched,  propounds  a  new  observation  about  the  weather ; 
and  then,  ten  minutes  after,  perhaps  a  new  reinforcement  of 
visitors  comes — say  a  mamma  with  four  marriageable  daughters, 
for  whom  there  are  not  chairs  enough — and  so  you  have  to  get 
Up  along  with  some  others,  take  leave  of  the  lady  of  the  house, 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    A&MS.  7I 

and  go.  No,  countess,  that  sort  of  thing  passes  my  talent! 
for  company,  which  are  only  weak  at  the  best." 

**  You  seem,  as  a  general  rule,  to  keep  yourself  apart  from 
society.  One  sees  you  nowhere.  Are  you  a  misanthrope  ? 
But,  no  ;  I  withdraw  the  question.  From  a  good  deal  you  have 
said  I  drew  the  conclusion  that  you  love  all  men." 

**  I  love  humanity  ;  but  as  to  all  men,  no.  There  are  too 
many  among  them  worthless,  bomh^  self-seeking,  cold-blooded, 
cruel.  Those  I  cannot  love,  though  I  may  pity  them,  because 
their  education  and  circumstances  have  not  allowed  them  to  be 
worthy  of  love." 

"  Circumstances  and  education  ?  But  character  depends 
chiefly  on  one's  inborn  disposition.     Do  you  not  think  so?" 

*'  What  you  call  '  inborn  disposition  '  is,  however,  nothing 
more  than  circumstances — ancestral  circumstances." 

"  Then,  are  you  of  the  opinion  that  a  bad  man  is  not  blam- 
able  for  his  badness,  and,  therefore,  not  to  be  abominated  ?  " 

"The  consequent  is  not  determined  by  the  antecedent; 
he  may  be  not  blamable  and  still  to  be  abominated.  You 
also  are  not  responsible  for  your  beauty,  still  you  are  to  be 
admired " 

"  Baron  Tilling !  we  began  to  talk  about  serious  matters  like 
two  reasonable  persons.  Do  I  deserve  then  all  of  a  sudden  to 
be  treated  like  a  compliment-hunting  society  lady  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  did  not  so  intend  it.  I  only  used  the 
nearest  argument  I  could  find." 

A  short  pause  followed.  Tilling's  look  rested  with  an  ad. 
miring,  almost  tender,  expression  on  my  eyes,  and  I  did  not 
drop  them.  I  am  quite  aware  that  I  ought  to  have  looked 
away ;  but  I  did  not.  I  felt  my  cheeks  glow,  and  knew  that,  if 
he  had  thought  me  pretty  before,  I  must  at  that  moment  be 
looking  still  more  pretty — it  was  a  pleasant,  **  mischievous," 
confusing  sensation,  and  lasted  half-a-minute.  It  could  not 
continue  longer.  I  put  my  fan  before  my  face  and  changed 
my  position  ;  then  in  an  indifferent  tone  I  said : — 

"  You  gave  Minister  '  To-be-sure '  a  capital  answer  just  now  " 


ya  LAY  DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Tilling  shook  his  head  as  if  he  were  rousing  himself  out  of  a 
dream. 

"  I  ?  just  now?  I  don't  recollect  On  the  contrary,  I  fancy 
that  I  gave  offence  by  my  remark  about  Springauf — or  Hupsauf 
was  it? — or  whatever  the  name  of  the  brave  sharpshooter 
was." 

"Hupfauf." 

"You  were  the  only  one  who  liked  what  I  said.  Theii 
excellencies,  on  the  other  hand,  I  offended,  of  course,  by  an 
expression  so  unbecoming  to  an  imperial  and  royal  lieu- 
tenant-colonel as  *  hard  heart,'  applied  to  one  who  had  given 
the  enemy  so  grand  a  sample  of  his  shooting.  Blasphemy! 
Soldiers,  as  is  well  known,  are  the  more  agreeable  company 
the  more  coolly  they  deal  out  death,  while  there  is  no  more 
sentimental  character  to  move  the  feelings  in  the  melodramatic 
repertory  than  the  warrior  grey  in  battle,  but  soft  of  heart — a 
wooden-legged  veteran  who  could  not  hurt  a  fly." 

"  Why  did  you  become  a  soldier  ?  " 

"  You  put  the  question  in  a  way  which  shows  you  have 
looked  into  my  heart  It  was  not  I,  nor  Frederick  Tilling, 
thirty-nine  years  old,  who  had  seen  three  campaigns,  who  chose 
the  profession,  but  little  Freddy,  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  who  had 
grown  up  among  wooden  war-horses  and  regiments  of  leaden 
soldiers,  and  to  whom  his  father,  the  decorated  general,  and 
his  uncle,  the  lady-killing  lieutenant,  would  put  the  question 
checringly :  *  Now,  my  boy,  what  are  you  going  to  be  ? '  What 
else  except  a  real  soldier,  with  a  real  sabre,  and  a  live  horse  ?  " 

"  I  had  a  box  of  leaden  soldiers  given  me  to-day  for  my  son 
Rudolf,  but  I  am  not  going  to  give  them  to  him.  But  why, 
now  that  Freddy  has  grown  into  Frederick,  why  have  you  not 
quitted  a  condition  which  has  become  hateful  to  you  ?  " 

"  Hateful  ?  That  is  saying  too  much.  I  hate  the  position 
of  affairs  which  lays  on  us  men  such  cruel  duties  as  making 
war;  but  as  this  position  does  exist,  and  exists  inevitably, 
why,  I  cannot  hate  the  people  who  take  on  themselves  the 
duties  arising  from  it,  and  fulfil  them  conscientiously  with  the 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  73 

expenditure  of  their  best  powers.  Suppose  I  left  the  service 
of  the  army,  would  there  be  any  the  less  warfare?  Truly 
not.  It  would  only  be  that  some  one  else  would  hazard 
his  hfe  in  my  place,  and  I  can  do  that  myself." 

**  Could  not  you  render  better  service  to  your  fellow-men  in 
another  condition  ?  '* 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  have  learned  nothing  thoroughly  except 
soldiering.  A  man  can  always  do  something  good  and  useful  in 
his  surroundings.  I  have  plenty  of  opportunity  of  lightening  the 
lot  of  those  around  me.  And  as  far  as  concerns  myself — for  I 
may  regard  myself  also  as  a  fellow-man — I  enjoy  the  respect 
which  the  world  pays  to  my  profession.  I  have  passed  a 
tolerably  distinguished  career,  am  beloved  by  my  comrades,  and 
am  pleased  at  what  I  have  attained.  I  have  no  estate,  and, 
as  a  private  person,  I  should  not  have  the  means  to  assist  any 
one  else,  nor  even  myself.  So  on  what  grounds  should  I 
abandon  my  way  of  life  ?  ** 

"  Because  killing  people  is  repulsive  to  you." 

"  If  it  is  a  question  of  defending  one's  life  against  another  man 
attacking  it,  one's  personal  responsibility  for  causing  death  ceases. 
War  is  often,  and  justly,  styled  murder  on  a  large  scale ;  still, 
no  individual  feels  himself  to  be  a  murderer.  However,  that 
fighting  is  repulsive  to  me,  that  the  sad  entry  on  to  a  field  of 
battle  causes  me  pain  and  disgust,  that  is  true  enough.  I 
suffer  from  it,  suffer  intensely,  but  so  must  many  a  seaman 
suffer  during  a  storm  from  sea-sickness  ;  still,  if  he  is  anything  of 
a  brave  man,  he  holds  out  on  deck,  and  always,  if  needs  must, 
ventures  to  sea  again." 

**  Yes,  if  needs  must.     But  must  there  then  be  war  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  different  question.  But  individuals  musi  do  their 
share  in  it,  and  that  gives  them,  if  not  pleasure,  at  least  strength 
to  do  their  duty.'* 

And  so  we  went  on  speaking  for  a  time  in  a  low  tone,  so  as 
not  to  disturb  the  piquet-players,  and  perhaps,  too,  in  order 
not  to  be  overheard  by  them,  for  the  views  we  exchanged,  as 
Tilling  sketched  a  few  more  episodes  of  war  and  the  horror  ho 


74  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

had  experienced  from  them,  and  I  communicated  to  him  the 
observations  made  by  Buckle  about  the  diminution  of  the 
war-spirit  with  the  advance  of  civilisation — such  conversation 
would  have  decidedly  not  suited  the  ears  of  General  Althaus. 
I  felt  that  it  was  a  sign  of  great  confidence  on  Tilling's  part  to 
display  his  inward  feeling  to  me  on  this  matter  so  unreservedly, 
and  assuredly  a  stream  of  sympathy  passed  from  one  soul  to 
another  between  us. 

"  Why,  how  deep  you  are  plunged  in  your  eager  whispers 
there,"  cried  my  father  to  us  once  while  the  cards  were  being 
shuffled ;  "  what  are  you  two  plotting  about  ?  *' 

"I  am  telling  the  countess  campaigning  tales." 

**  Oh,  well,  she  is  accustomed  to  that  from  her  childhood. 
I  tell  her  some  too  occasionally.  Six  cards,  doctor,  and  a 
qiiart-major." 

We  resumed  our  whispered  talk. 

Suddenly,  as  Tilling  spoke — and  he  had  again  fastened  his 
gaze  on  mine,  and  such  intimate  sympathy  spoke  in  his  voice — 
I  thought  of  the  princess. 

It  gave  me  a  stab,  and  I  turned  my  head  away.  Tilling 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence. 

"  Why  do  you  change  countenance  so,  countess  ?  "  he  asked 
in  alarm.     "  Have  I  said  anything  to  displease  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  I  it  was  only  a  painful  thought :  pray  go  on." 

"  I  have  forgotten  what  I  was  talking  about.  I  would  rather 
you  would  confide  your  painful  thought  to  me.  I  have  been 
the  whole  time  pouring  my  heart  out  to  you  so  openly.  Now 
repay  it  to  me." 

"  It  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  confide  to  you  what  I  was 
thinking  about  just  now." 

"Impossible!     May  I  guess?    Was  it  about  yourself ? " 

"No." 

"Me?" 

I  nodded. 

"Something  painful  about  me,  and  something  you  cannof 
tell  me.     Is  it ?  " 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  75 

•*  Do  not  trouble  your  head  about  it :  I  refuse  any  more 
information."  Then  I  rose  and  looked  at  the  clock.  "Why, 
it  is  half-past  nine  1  I  am  going  to  say  good-bye  to  you  now, 
papa." 

My  father  looked  up  from  his  cards. 

**  What !  are  you  too  going  to  a  party  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  going  home.    I  went  to  bed  very  late  yesterday." 

"And  so  you  are  sleepy?  Tilling,  that  is  not  very  compli- 
mentary to  you  ! " 

"  No,  no,"  I  protested  laughingly,  "  it  is  no  fault  of  the 
baron ;  we  have  been  talking  very  livelily." 

I  took  leave  of  my  father  and  the  doctor — Tilling  begged  to 
be  permitted  to  see  me  into  my  carriage.  It  was  he  who  put 
my  cloak  on  in  the  ante-room  and  gave  me  his  arm  down  the 
steps.  As  we  went  down  he  stopped  for  a  moment  and  asked 
me  seriously : — 

"  Once  more,  countess,  have  I  anyhow  offended  you  ?* 

"  No  ;  on  my  honour." 

"Then  I  am  pacified." 

When  he  put  me  into  the  carriage  he  pressed  my  hand  hard 
and  put  it  to  his  lips. 

"  When  may  I  wait  on  you  ? " 

"  On  Saturday  I  am " 

"  At  home — I  understand — not  at  all  then.* 

He  bowed  and  stepped  back. 

I  wanted  to  call  after  him,  but  the  servant  shut  the  carriage 
door. 

I  threw  myself  back  in  the  comer,  and  should  have  liked  to 
cry — tears  of  spite  like  a  naughty  child.  I  was  in  a  rage  with 
myself;  how  could  I  ever  have  been  so  cold,  so  impolite,  so 
rough  almost  to  a  man  with  whom  I  feel  such  warm  sympathy  ? 
It  was  the  fault  of  the  princess.  How  I  hated  her !  What 
was  this  ?  Jealousy  ?  Then  the  explanation  of  what  was  mov- 
ing me  burst  on  me — I  was  in  love  with  Tilling.  "  In  love, 
love,  love  ! "  rattled  out  the  wheels  on  the  pavement.  "  You 
are  in  love  with  him  1 "  was  what  the  street  lamps  as  they  Hew 


76  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

past  darted  on  to  me.  "  You  love  him ! "  was  breathed  to  me 
out  of  my  glove,  which  I  pressed  to  my  lips  on  the  place  that 
he  had  kissed. 

Next  day  I  wrote  the  following  lines  in  the  red  book  : 
"  What  the  carriage  wheels  and  the  street  lamps  were  saying  to 
me  yesterday  is  not  true — or  at  least  much  exaggerated.  A 
sympathetic  attraction  to  a  noble  and  clever  nian.  True ;  but 
passion  ?  Ha !  I  am  not  going  to  throw  my  heart  away  on  any 
man  who  belongs  to  another  woman.  He  also  feels  sympathy 
for  me.  We  understand  each  other  in  many  things.  Perhaps 
he  is  the  only  man  who  shares  my  views  about  war ;  but  he  is 
not  on  that  account  anywhere  near  falling  in  love  with  me,  and  I 
ought  to  be  just  as  far  from  falling  in  love  with  him.  That  I  did 
not  ask  him  to  visit  me  on  another  day  than  the  regular  recep- 
tion day,  which  he  hates  so,  might  indeed  have  looked  a  little 
unkind,  after  the  intimate  conversation  we  had  been  having.  But 
perhaps  it  is  better  so.  After  the  interval  or  a  week  or  two, 
after  yesterday's  impressions,  which  have  shaken  me  so,  I  shall 
be  able  to  meet  Tilling  again  quite  calmly,  relying  on  the  idea 
that  he  is  in  love  with  another  lady,  and  shall  be  able  to  refresh 
myself  with  his  friendly  and  suggestive  conversation.  For  it  is 
indeed  a  pleasure  to  converse  with  him ;  it  is  so  different,  so 
totally  different,  from  all  others.  I  am  truly  glad  that  I  am 
able  to-day  to  sum  up  this  so  calmly.  Yesterday  I  might  for  an 
instant  have  even  apprehended  that  my  peace  was  gone,  that  I 
might  become  the  prey  of  torturing  jealousy.  This  fear  has 
to-day  disappeared." 

The  same  day  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  friend  Lori  Griesbach — 
the  same  at  whose  house  I  heard  of  the  death  of  my  poor 
Arno.  She  was  the  one  among  the  young  ladies  of  my  ac- 
quaintance with  whom  I  associated  most,  and  most  intimately. 
Not  that  we  agreed  in  many  of  our  views,  or  that  we  understood 
each  other  completely — though  this  is  no  doubt  the  foundation 
of  a  real  friendship — but  we  had  been  playmates  as  children,  we 
had  shared  the  same  position  as  young  married  women,  had  then 
seen  each  other  almost  daily;  and  so  a  certain  habitual  familiarity 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  77 

had  sprung  up  between  us,  which,  in  spite  of  so  much  difference 
in  the  principles  of  our  nature,  made  our  conversation  together 
quite  pleasant  and  comfortable.  The  province  on  which  we 
met  each  other  was  limited  and  narrow,  but  in  it  we  were  per 
fectly  happy  together.  Whole  pages  of  my  spiritual  life  were 
quite  closed  to  her.  Of  the  views  and  judgments  which  I  had 
reached  in  my  quiet  hours  of  study  I  had  never  told  her  a 
word,  nor  did  I  feel  any  desire  to  do  so.  How  rarely  can  one 
give  oneself  entirely  to  any  one  I  I  have  often  experienced 
this  in  life,  that  I  could  lay  open  to  one  person  only  one  side, 
to  another  only  another,  of  my  spiritual  personality ;  that,  as 
often  as  I  conversed  with  one  or  the  other,  a  certain  part, 
so  to  say,  of  the  register  was  opened,  while  all  the  rest  of  the 
notes  remained  mute. 

Between  Lori  and  me  there  were  plenty  of  circumstances 
which  gave  us  material  for  hours  of  chat — our  childish  recollec- 
tions, our  children,  the  events  and  incidents  in  the  circle  of 
our  acquaintance,  .dress,  English  .novels,  and  the  like. 

Lori's  boy  Xavier  was  of  the  same  age  as  my  son  Rudolf  and 
his  favourite  playmate,  and  Lori'is  little  daughter  Beatrix,  who 
was  then  ten  months  old,  was  playfully  destined  by  us  to 
become  one  day  Countess  Rudolf  Dotzky. 

"  So  here  you  are  again  at  last,"  was  Lori's  greeting  to  me. 
"  Lately  you  have  become  quite  a  hermit !  Even  my  future 
son-in-law  I  have  not  had  the  honour  of  seeing  for  ever  so 
long  !  Beatrix  will  be  quite  offended.  Now  tell  us,  dear,  what 
are  you  about  ?  and  how  are  Rosa  and  Lilly  ?  Besides,  I  have 
some  interesting  news  for  Lilly,  which  my  husband  brought 
me  yesterday  from  the  caf^.  There  is  some  one  deeply  in 
love  with  her,  one  that  I  thought  was  making  up  to  you ;  but 
I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  later.  What  a  lovely  gown  that  is 
that  you  have  on  !  It  is  from  Francine's  I  know.  I  could  tell 
that  at  once.  She  has  such  a  peculiar  style  of  her  own.  And 
your  bonnet  is  from  (jindreau?  It  suits  you  completely.  He 
makes  dresses  too,  now,  not  bonnets  only,  and  with  immense 
taste  too.     Yesterday  evening  at  the  Dietrichsteins  (why  were 


78  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

you  not  there  ?)  Nini  Chotek  was  there  with  an  Gindreau  dress, 
and  looked  almost  pretty." 

So  she  went  on  for  some  time,  and  I  answered  in  the  same 
style.  After  I  had  dexterously  led  the  talk  to  the  gossip  which 
was  current  in  society,  I  put  this  question  in  the  most  uncon- 
cerned tone  possible : — 

"  Have  you  heard  that  Princess has  a  liaison  with  a 

certain  Baron  Tilling?" 

"I  have  heard  something  of  it,  but,  anyhow,  that  is  de 
Vhistoire  ancienne.  To-day  it  is  a  perfectly  well-known  thing 
that  the  princess  is  mad  after  a  low  comedian.  What,  have 
you  any  interest  in  this  Baron  Tilling  ?  Why,  you  are  blush- 
ing !  Ah !  it  is  no  good  shaking  your  head !  Better  confess  ! 
But  for  this,  it  would  be  an  unheard-of  thing  that  you  should 
remain  so  long  cold  and  unfeeling.  It  would  be  a  true  satis- 
faction for  me  to  know  you  were  in  love  at  last.  It  is  true 
that  Tilling  would  be  no  match  for  you ;  for  you  have  more 
brilliant  suitors — and  he  must  have  absolutely  nothing.  To 
be  sure,  you  are  rich  enough  yourself,  but  then,  besides,  he  is 
too  old  for  you.  How  old  would  poor  Arno  have  been  now  ? 
Oh!  that  moment,  it  was  too  sad,  when  you  read  my 
brother's  letter  out  to  me.  I  shall  never  forget  it.  Ah !  war 
is  certainly  a  sad  business,  for  some.  For  others  it  is  an 
excellent  business.  My  husband  wishes  for  nothing  more 
ardently  than  that  something  should  occur,  he  so  longs  to  dis- 
tinguish himself.  I  can  understand  it.  If  I  were  a  soldier  I 
should  also  wish,  myself,  to  do  some  great  exploit ;  or,  at  least, 
to  get  on  in  my  profession." 

"  Or  to  be  crippled  or  shot  dead  ?  " 

"I  should  never  think  of  that.  One  should  not  think  of 
that,  and  besides  it  only  happens  to  those  whose  destiny  it  is. 
Your  destiny,  my  love,  was  to  be  a  young  widow." 

"  And  the  war  with  Italy  had  to  break  out  to  bring  it  about  ?  " 

"  And  suppose  it  is  my  destiny  to  be  the  wife  of  a  relatively 
young  general." 

"Well   then,  must   there  be   a  general  war  in  order  thaf 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  79 

Griesbach  may  get  quick  promotion  ?  You  prescribe  a  very 
simple  course  for  the  government  of  the  world.  But  what 
were  you  going  to  tell  me  in  reference  to  Lilly?" 

"  That  your  cousin,  Conrad,  raves  about  her.  I  expect  he 
will  very  soon  make  an  offer  for  her." 

"  I  doubt  that.  Conrad  Althaus  is  too  flighty  a  madcap  to 
think  of  marrying." 

"  Oh  I  they  are  all  madcaps  and  flighty — still  they  do  get 
married  when  they  get  foolishly  fond  of  a  girl.  Do  you  think 
Lilly  likes  him?" 

**  I  have  not  observed  at  all." 

"  It  would  be  a  very  good  match.  On  the  death  of  his  uncle 
Drontheim  he  inherits  the  Selavetz  estate.  Talking  of  Dron- 
theim,  do  you  know  that  Ferdy  Drontheim — the  same  that 
broke  ofl"  his  connection  with  Grilli  the  danseuse — is  now  to 
marry  a  rich  banker's  daughter  ?  However,  no  one  will  receive 
her.  Are  you  going  to  the  English  embassy  to-night  ?  What, 
again  no  ?  Well,  really  you  are  right.  In  these  embassy  routs 
one  feels  after  all  not  quite  at  home,  there  are  such  a  lot  of 
funny  people  there,  of  whom  one  never  can  be  certain  whether 
they  are  comme  ilfaut.  Every  English  tourist  who  can  get  an 
introduction  to  the  ambassador  is  invited — if  he  is  only  a  com- 
mercial man  turned  landowner,  or  even  a  mere  tradesman.  I 
like  Englishmen  only  in  the  Tauchnitz  editions.  Have  you 
yet  resLdJane  Eyref  Is  it  not  really  wonderfully  pretty?  As 
soon  as  Beatrix  begins  to  talk  I  shall  hire  an  English  nurse. 
About  Xavier,  I  am  not  at  all  pleased  with  his  French  maid. 
A  little  while  ago  I  met  her  in  the  street,  as  she  was  walking 
out  with  the  boy,  and  a  young  man,  who  looked  like  a  shop- 
man, was  walking  with  her,  and  seemed  in  intimate  conversa- 
tion. All  at  once  I  stood  before  them — you  should  have  seen 
their  confusion !  One  has  always  some  trouble  with  one's 
people.  There  is  my  own  maid,  who  has  given  me  warning, 
because  she  is  going  to  get  married  just  now  when  1  had  got 
used  to  her  !  There  is  nothing  more  intolerable  than  new  facei 
among  one's  servants.     What !  do  you  want  to  go  ?  " 


8o  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

"  Yes,  my  love.  I  must  pay  some  calls  now  that  cannot  be 
put  off.     Adieu." 

And  I  would  not  be  moved  to  stay  "  only  for  five  minutes 
more,"  though  the  calls  that  could  not  be  put  off  were  a  fiction. 
At  another  time  I  might  no  doubt  have  entertained  myself  for 
hours  in  hearing  such  meaningless  tittle-tattle  and  tattling  back 
again,  but  to-day  it  displeased  me.  One  longing  had  seized 
me — for  a  talk  like  yesterday  evening !  Ah,  Tilling !  Frederick 
Tilling  I  The  carriage  wheels  were  right  then  in  their  refrain  ! 
A  change  had  happened  in  me,  I  had  been  raised  into  another 
world  of  feeling ;  these  petty  matters  in  which  my  friend  was 
so  deeply  interested — dresses,  nursemaids,  stories  about  mar- 
riages and  estates — all  that  was  too  pitiful,  too  insignificant,  too 
stifling.  Away  from  it — above  it — into  a  different  atmosphere 
of  life !  And  Tilling  was  really  free ;  the  princess  **  is  mad 
after  a  low  comedian  ".  He  could  not  surely  have  ever  been 
in  love  with  herl  some  transitory,  yes,  transitory  adventure, 
nothing  more.  ^^ 

Several  days  passed  without  my  seeing  Tilling  again.  Every 
evening  I  went  to  the  theatre,  and  from  thence  to  a  party, 
expecting  and  hoping  to  meet  him,  but  in  vain. 

My  reception  day  brought  me  many  visitors,  but,  of  course, 
not  him.  But  I  did  not  expect  him.  It  was  not  like  him  after 
his  decisive  "  That  you  really  must  not  expect  from  me, 
countess,"  and  his  saying  at  the  carriage  door  in  so  hurt  a 
manner  "  I  understand — then  not  at  all,"  to  present  himself 
after  all  at  my  house  on  a  day  of  the  kind.  I  had  offended  him 
that  evening — that  was  certain ;  and  he  avoided  meeting  me 
again — that  was  clear.  Only,  what  could  I  do  ?  I  was  all  on 
fire  to  see  him  again,  to  make  amends  for  my  rudeness  on  the 
former  occasion,  and  get  another  hour  of  a  talk  such  as  I  had 
had  at  my  father's — an  hour's  talk  the  delight  of  which  would 
now  be  increased  to  me  an  hundredfold  by  the  consciousness, 
which  had  now  become  plain  to  me,  of  my  love. 

In  default  of  Tilling,  the  following  Saturday  brought  me  at  least 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  8X 

TilUng's  cousin,  the  lady  at  whose  ball  I  had  madehis  acquaintance. 
On  her  entrance  my  heart  began  to  beat.  Now  I  could  at  least 
learn  something  about  the  man  who  gave  me  so  much  to  think 
about.  Still  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  put  a  direct  question 
to  this  effect.  I  felt  that  I  was  not  in  a  condition  to  speak  out 
his  very  name  without  blushing  so  as  to  betray  myself ;  and 
therefore  I  talked  to  my  visitor  about  a  hundred  different 
things — even  the  weather  amongst  the  rest — but  avoided  that 
very  topic  which  lay  at  my  heart. 

"  Oh,  Martha,"  said  she,  without  any  preparation,  "  I  have  a 
message  to  give  you.  My  cousin  Frederick  begs  to  be  remem- 
bered to  you.     He  went  away  the  day  before  yesterday." 

I  felt  the  blood  desert  my  cheeks.  "  Went  away  ?  Where  ? 
Is  his  regiment  moved  ?  " 

**  No ;  but  he  has  taken  a  short  leave  of  absence,  to  hurry 
off  to  Berlin,  where  his  mother  is  on  her  deathbed.  Poor 
fellow,  I  am  sorry  for  him,  for  I  know  how  he  adores  his 
mother." 

Two  days  afterwards  I  received  a  letter  in  a  hand  I  did  not 

know,  with  the  postmark  of  Berlin.      Even  before  I  saw  the 

signature,   I   knew  that  the     letter     was   TiUing's.       It   ran 

thus : — 

«*8  Friedrich  St.,  Mar.  30,  1863,  i  a.m. 

"  Dear  Countess, — T  must  tell  my  grief  to  some  one,  but 
why  to  you  ?  Have  I  any  right  to  do  so  ?  No ;  but  I  have 
an  irresistible  impulse.  You  will  feel  with  me.  I  know  you 
wiU. 

**  If  you  had  known  her  who  is  dying  you  would  have  loved 
her.  That  soft  heart,  that  clear  intellect,  that  joyous  temper — 
all  her  dignity  and  worth — all  is  now  destined  for  the  grave. 
No  hope  !  I  have  spent  the  whole  day  at  her  bedside,  and  am 
going  to  spend  the  night  also  up  here — her  last  night.  She 
has  suffered  much,  poor  thing.  Now  she  is  quiet.  Her 
powers  are  failing.  Her  pulse  is  already  almost  stopped. 
Besides  me  there  are  watching  in  her  room  her  sister  and  a 
physician. 

6 


8a  LAT  DOWN   YOUR  A&Ml. 

**  Ah !  this  terrible  separation  !  Death  !  One  knows,  it 
is  true,  that  it  must  happen  to  every  one ;  and  yet  one  can 
never  rightly  take  in  that  it  may  reach  those  whom  we  love 
also.  What  this  mother  of  mine  was  to  me  I  cannot  tell  you. 
She  knows  that  she  is  dying.  When  I  arrived  this  morning  she 
received  me  with  an  exclamation  of  joy.  *  So  that  is  you  !  I 
see  you  once  more,  my  Fritz.  I  did  so  fear  you  would  come 
too  late.'  *  You  will  get  well  again,  mother,'  I  cried.  *  No  ! 
No  1  There  is  nothing  to  say  about  that,  my  dear  boy.  Do 
not  profane  our  last  time  together  with  the  usual  sick-bed 
consolations.     Let  us  bid  each  other  good-bye.' 

"  I  fell  sobbing  on  my  knees  at  the  bedside. 

**  *  You  are  crying,  Fritz.  Look  I  I  am  not  going  to  say  to 
you  the  usual  "  Do  not  weep  ".  I  am  glad  that  your  parting 
from  your  best  and  oldest  friend  gives  you  pain.  That  assures 
me  that  I  shall  long  live  in  your  remembrance.  Remember 
that  you  have  given  me  much  joy.  Except  the  anxiety  which 
the  illnesses  of  your  childhood  caused,  and  the  torture  when 
you  were  on  campaign,  you  have  given  me  none  but  happy 
feelings,  and  have  helped  me  to  bear  every  sadness  which  my 
lot  has  laid  on  me.  I  bless  you  for  it,  my  child.'  And  now 
another  attack  of  her  pain  came  on.  It  was  heartrending  to 
see  how  she  cried  and  groaned,  how  her  features  were  distorted. 
Yes  !  Death  is  a  fearful,  a  cruel  enemy  ;  and  the  sight  of  this 
agony  called  back  to  my  recollection  all  the  agonies  which  I 
had  witnessed  on  battlefields  and  in  the  hospitals.  When  I 
think  that  we  men  sometimes  hound  each  other  on  to  death 
gratuitously  and  cheerfully,  that  we  expect  youth  in  the  fulness 
of  its  strength  to  offer  itself  willingly  to  this  enemy,  against 
whom  even  weary  and  broken  old  age  yet  fights  desperately — 
it  is  revolting  ! 

"  This  night  is  fearfully  long.  If  the  poor  sufferer  could  only 
sleep !  but  she  lies  there  with  her  eyes  open.  I  pass  con- 
stantly the  space  of  half-an-hour  motionless  by  her  bedside ; 
and  then  I  slip  off  to  this  sheet  of  paper,  and  write  a  few  words, 
and  then  back  again  to  her.     In  this  way  it  has  come  to  foui 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  83 

o'clock.  I  have  just  heard  the  four  strokes  pealing  from  all  the 
clock  towers — it  strikes  one  as  so  cold,  so  unfeeling,  that  time 
is  striding  on  steadily  and  unerringly  through  all  eternity,  while 
at  this  very  moment  for  one  warmly-loved  being  time  must  stop — 
for  all  eternity.  But  by  how  much  the  colder,  the  more  unfeeling, 
the  universe  seems  to  our  pain,  by  so  much  the  more  longingly 
do  we  fly  back  to  another  human  heart  which  we  believe  is 
beating  in  unison  with  our  feelings.  And  therefore  it  is 
that  this  white  sheet  of  paper,  which  the  physician  left  lying  on 
the  table  when  he  wrote  his  prescription,  attracted  me,  and  there- 
fore it  is  that  I  send  you  this  letter. 

"  Seven  o'clock.     It  is  over. 

***  Farewell,  my  dear  boy.'  Those  were  her  last  words. 
Then  she  closed  her  eyes  and  slept.  Sleep  soundly,  my  dear 
mother.     In  tears  I  kiss  your  dear  hands. 

**  Yours  in  deadly  sorrow, 

"  Friedrich  Tilling." 

I  still  keep  this  letter.  How  frayed  and  discoloured  the 
sheet  looks  now  1  It  is  not  only  the  twenty-five  years  that  have 
elapsed  which  have  caused  this  decay,  but  also  the  tears  and  kisses 
with  which  I  covered  the  beloved  writing :  "  In  deadly  sorrow  ". 
Yes,  but  "  shouting  for  joy  "  was  what  I  felt  also  when  I  read 
it.  Though  there  was  no  word  of  love  in  it,  yet  no  letter 
could  give  plainer  proof  that  the  writer  loved  the  recipient,  and 
no  one  else.  That  at  such  a  moment,  at  the  deathbed  of  his 
mother,  he  longed  to  pour  out  his  grief  into  the  heart,  not 
of  the  princess,  but  into  mine,  must  surely  stifle  every  jealous 
doubt 

I  sertt  on  the  same  day  a  funeral  wreath  of  a  hundred  large 
white  camelias,  with  a  single  half-blown  red  rose  in  it.  Would 
he  understand  that  the  pale  scentless  flowers  belonged  to  the 
departed  as  a  symbol  of  mourning,  and  the  little  rose — to 
himself? 


CHAPTER  V. 

Conrad  Althaus's  suit  to  Lilly. — The  Easter  foot-washing, — 1 
meet  Tilling  again  and  receive  him  at  my  own  house, — A 
disappointing  interview. — Tilling  announces  his  departure 
from  Vienna. — A  conversation  about  war. — I  invite  him  to 
a  last  interview^  which  is  interrupted  by  my  father, — A  ride 
in  the  Prater. —  We  understand  each  other  at  last, 

I   Three  weeks  had  passed. 

Conrad  Althaus  had  proposed  for  my  sister  Lilly,  and 
met  with  a  refusal.  But  he  did  not  take  the  matter  much  to 
heart,  and  remained  a  zealous  visitor  at  our  house,  and  hovered 
about  us  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  our  society.  I  expressed 
to  him  once  my  admiration  for  his  unshaken  fidelity  to  his 
slavery. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  I  said,  "that  you  are  not  angry ;  but  it  is 
a  proof  to  me  that  your  feeling  for  Lilly  was  not  so  ardent  after 
all  as  you  pretend,  for  rejected  love  is  wont  to  be  angry  and 
resentful." 

"You  are  mistaflcen,  my  respected  Mrs.  Cousin;  I  love 
Lilly  to  distraction.  *  At  first  I  believed  that  my  heart  belonged 
to  you,  but  you  held  yourself  so  aloof  and  were  so  cold  that  I 
stifled  my  budding  passion  in  good  time ;  and  then  for  a  time 
I  was  interested  in  Rosa ;  but  at  last  I  fixed  my  affection  on 
Lilly,  and  to  this  aflection  I  will  now  remain  true  to  the  end  o/ 
my  life." 

**  Oh,  that  is  very  like  you  I" 

"  Lilly  or  no  one  !  " 

"  But  as  she  will  not  have  you,  my  poor  Conrad  ?* 

(84) 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  85 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  the  first  who  has  been  met  by  a  refusal, 
and  has  gone  back  to  the  same  lady  a  second  and  a  third  time, 
and  has  been  accepted  at  the  fourth  offer,  just  to  stop  his 
importunity  ?  Lilly  has  not  fallen  in  love  with  me,  which  is  a 
matter  not  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  but  is  still  a  fact  That 
under  these  circumstances  she  should  have  resisted  the  tempta- 
tion, which  for  so  many  maidens  is  irresistible,  to  become 
a  wife,  and  would  not  accept  an  offer  which  in  ft  worldly 
point  of  view  would  be  a  desirable  one,  that  seems  to  me  most 
good  in  her,  and  I  am  more  in  love  with  her  than  ever. 
Gradually  my  devotion  will  touch  her  and  awaken  a  return  of 
love,  and  then,  dearest  Martha,  you  will  become  my  sister-in- 
law.     I  hope  you  will  not  go  against  me  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh  no  !  On  the  contrary,  your  system  of  perseverance 
pleases  me.  With  time  and  the  exhibition  of  tenderness  one 
can  always  succeed  in  *  wooing  and  winning,'  as  the  English 
call  it.  But  as  to  minnen  und  gewinnen^  our  young  gentle- 
men seem  hardly  disposed  to  take  the  necessary  trouble. 
They  want  not  to  strive  after  and  gain  their  happiness,  but 
to  pluck  it  without  any  trouble,  like  some  wayside  flower.*' 

In  a  fortnight  Tilling  was  back  in  Vienna,  as  I  heard,  and 
yet  he  did  not  come  to  my  house.  I  could  not,  of  course, 
expect  to  meet  him  in  people's  drawing-rooms,  since  his  be- 
reavement kept  him  away  from  all  society.  Still  I  had  hoped 
that  he  would  have  come,  or  at  least  written  to  me ;  but  one 
day  after  another  passed  and  did  not  bring  the  expected  visit 
or  letter. 

"  I  cannot  think,  Martha,  what  has  come  to  you,"  said  Aunt 
Mary  to  me  one  morning.  "  For  some  time  you  have  been  so 
out  of  humour,  so  distraite,  so — I  don't  know  what  to  call  it 
You  are  very  wrong  not  to  lend  an  ear  to  any  of  your  suitors. 
This  solitary  existence,  as  I  have  said  from  the  very  first,  is  not 
good  for  you.  The  consequence  of  it  is  these  low  spirits 
which  distinguish  you  just  now.  Have  you  quite  forgotten 
your  Easter  devotions  ?  They  would  help  to  do  you  good." 
*  The  German  words  for  "  woo  and  win  ", 


86  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

**  I  think  that  both  things — I  mean  both  marrying  and  going 
to  confession — should  be  done  for  love  of  the  thing  itself,  not  as 
a  remedy  for  low  spirits.  None  of  my  suitors  please  me ;  and 
as  for  confession " 

**Well,  it  is  high  time  for  that;  to-morrow  is  Maundy 
Thursday.     Have  you  tickets  for  the  foot- washing  ?  " 

*'Yes,  papa  has  sent  me  some,  but  I  really  do  not  know 
whether  I  shall  go." 

"  Oh !  but  you  must.  There  is  nothing  more  beautiful  and 
more  elevating  than  this  ceremony.  The  triumph  of  Christian 
humility.  The  emperor  and  empress  prostrating  themselves 
to  the  earth  to  wash  the  feet  of  poor  men  and  women  in 
their  service.  Does  not  that  symbolise  well  how  small  and 
insignificant  is  earthly  majesty  before  the  heavenly  ?  ** 

"  In  order  to  represent  humility  symbolically  by  kneeling 
down  one  must  feel  oneself  to  be  really  a  very  exalted  personage. 
It  means — 'What  God's  Son  was  in  comparison  with  the 
apostles,  I,  the  emperor,  am  in  coniparison  with  these  poor 
folks '.  This  fundamental  motive  of  the  ceremony  does  not 
strike  me  as  peculiarly  humble." 

"  What  curious  notions  you  have,  Martha.  In  these  three 
years  that  you  have  passed  in  solitude  in  the  country,  and 
in  the  perusal  of  wicked  books,  your  ideas  have  become  so 
perverted." 

''Wicked  hooks?" 

**  Yes,  vdcked.  I  maintain  that  the  word  is  correct.  The 
other  day  when  in  my  innocence  I  spoke  to  the  archbishop 
about  a  book  I  had  seen  on  your  table,  and  which  from  its  title 
I  took  for  a  religious  work,  T/i€  Life  of  Jesus,  by  one  Strauss, 
why,  he  smote  his  hands  together  above  his  head,  and  cried 
out :  *  Merciful  Heaven,  how  came  you  by  such  a  profligate 
work  ?  *  I  turned  as  red  as  fire,  and  assured  him  that  I  had  not 
read  the  book  myself,  but  had  only  seen  it  at  a  relation's. 
*  Then  demand  of  your  relation,  as  she  values  her  salvation,  to 
throw  this  book  into  the  fire/  And  that  I  do  now  Martha. 
Will  you  bum  the  book  ?" 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  87 

**  If  we  were  two  or  three  centuries  earlier  we  might  have 
watched,  not  the  book,  but  the  author,  going  to  the  flames. 
That  would  have  been  more  effectual — more  effectual  for  the 
time,  though  not  for  long." 

*'  You  give  me  no  answer.     Will  you  bum  this  book  ?  ** 

"  No." 

"  What  I  nothing  but  no  ?  " 

"  Why  should  we  have  any  long  talk  about  it  ?  We  do  not 
yet  understand  each  other  in  these  matters,  dear  auntie.  Let 
me  rather  tell  you  what  little  Rudolf  yesterday " 

And  thus  the  conversation  was  happily  led  off  to  another  and 
a  fruitful  subject,  in  which  no  difference  of  opinion  came  in 
between  us ;  for  we  were  both  agreed  on  this  matter,  that 
Rudolf  Dotzky  was  the  dearest,  the  most  original,  and,  for 
his  age,  the  most  advanced  child  in  the  world. 

Next  day  I  resolved  nevertheless  to  attend  the  foot-washing. 
A  little  after  ten,  in  black  clothes,  as  beseems  Passion  week, 
my  sister  Rosa  and  I  presented  ourselves  in  the  great  hall  of 
state  in  the  Burg.  On  a  scaffold  there  places  were  reserved 
for  members  of  the  aristocracy  and  of  the  diplomatic  corps. 
Thus  one  was  again  in  one's  own  set,  and  greetings  were 
exchanged  left  and  right.  The  gallery  too  was  closely  packed, 
also  with  persons  selected,  and  who  had  got  cards  of  admission, 
but  still  a  little  "  mixed,"  not  belonging  only  to  the  cremg^  as  we 
were  on  our  scaffold.  In  short,  the  old  caste  separations  and 
privileges,  to  correspond  with  this  /?/^  of  symbolical  humility. 
I  do  not  know  whether  the  others  were  in  a  mood  of  religious 
devotion,  but  I  awaited  what  was  coming  with  just  the  same 
feeling  with  which  one  looks  forward  in  the  theatre  to  a  pro- 
mised '*  spectacle  ".  Just  as  there,  after  exchanging  salutations 
from  box  to  box,  one  looks  with  excitement  for  the  rise  of  the 
curtain,  so  I  was  looking  in  the  direction  in  which  the  chorus 
and  soloists  in  the  show  before  me  were  to  appear.  The  whole 
scene  was  already  set,  especially  the  long  table  at  which  the 
twelve  old  men  and  twelve  old  women  had  to  seat  them, 
selveii 


88  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

Still  I  was  glad  I  had  come,  for  I  felt  excited,  and  this 
is  always  a  pleasant  feeling  and  one  which  delivers  one  from 
troublous  thoughts  for  the  moment.  My  trouble  was  con- 
stantly "Why  does  not  Tilling  show  himself?"  Just  now  this 
fixed  idea  had  left  me.  What  I  was  expecting  and  wishing  to 
see  was  the  imperial  and  the  humble  actors  in  the  fete  before 
me.  And  exactly  at  that  moment,  when  I  was  not  thinking  of 
him,  my  eyes  fell  on  Tilling. 

The  mass  was  just  over,  the  dignitaries  of  the  Court  had  just 
entered  the  hall,  followed  by  the  general  staff  and  the  corps  of 
officers,  and  I  was  letting  my  gaze  wander  unconcernedly  over 
all  these  persons  in  uniform,  who  were  not  the  chief  actors,  but 
only  intended  to  fill  the  stage — when  suddenly  I  recognised 
Tilling,  who  had  taken  his  position  just  opposite  our  seat.  It 
ran  through  me  like  an  electric  shock.  He  was  not  looking 
our  way.  His  look  showed  traces  of  the  suffering  he  had  gone 
through  during  the  last  few  weeks — an  expression  of  deep 
sorrow  rested  on  his  features.  How  gladly  would  I  have  shown 
my  sympathy  with  him  by  a  silent  warm  pressure  of  the  hand  ! 
I  kept  my  gaze  firmly  fixed  on  him,  hoping  that  by  this 
magnetic  power  I  might  compel  him  to  look  in  my  way 
too — but  in  vain. 

**They  are  coming  I  they  are  coming  1 "  cried  Rosa,  nudging 
me.    . "  Only  look  I     How  beautiful — what  a  picture !  " 

It  was  the  old  men  and  women,  clothed  in  the  old  German 
costume,  who  were  now  introduced.  The  youngest  of  the 
women — so  said  the  newspapers — was  eighty-eight  years  old, 
the  youngest  of  the  men  eighty-five.  Wrinkled,  toothless, 
bowed — I  could  not  see  really  the  point  of  Rosa's  **  How  beauti- 
ful ! "  What  pleased  me,  however,  was  the  costume.  This 
was  peculiarly  and  excellently  suited  to  the  whole  ceremony,  so 
penetrated  with  the  spirit  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  anachronism, 
in  this  respect,  was  ourselves — in  our  modem  clothes  and  with 
our  modern  notions  we  did  not  harmonise  with  the  picture. 

After  the  twenty-four  old  people  had  taken  their  seats  at  the 
table,  a  number  of  gentlemen,  mostly  elderly,  bedizened  with 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  89 

gold-Sticks  and  orders,  came  into  the  hall ;  the  privy  council- 
lors and  chamberlains,  many  countenances  of  our  acquaint- 
ance, Minister  "To-be-sure"  among  the  rest,  were  there. 
Lastly  followed  the  priests,  who  had  to  officiate  in  the  solemn 
rite.  So  now  the  march  of  the  supernumeraries  into  the  hall 
was  over,  and  the  expectation  of  the  public  rose  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  excitement. 

My  eyes,  however,  were  not  so  closely  fixed  as  those  of  the 
other  spectators  in  that  direction  from  which  the  court  was  to 
come,  but  kept  always  turning  back  to  Tilling.  The  latter  had 
at  last  looked  my  way,  and  recognised  me.     He  saluted  me. 

Rosa's  hand  was  again  laid  on  my  arm. 

"  Martha,  are  you  ill  ?  You  have  turned  pale  and  red  all 
at  once  I     Look  !    Now !     Now  I " 

In  fact,  the  chapel  master — I  should  have  said  the  chief 
master  of  the  ceremonies — raised  his  staff  and  gave  the  signal 
of  the  approach  of  the  imperial  couple.  This  promised  at  any 
rate  a  sight  worth  seeing,  for,  apart  from  their  being  the  highest, 
they  were  certainly  one  of  the  most  beautiful  couples  in  the 
land.  At  the  same  time  as  the  emperor  and  empress  several 
archdukes  and  archduchesses  had  entered,  and  now  the  cere- 
mony was  to  begin.  Stewards  and  pages  brought  in  the  dishes, 
full  of  food,  and  the  emperor  and  empress  placed  them  before 
the  old  people  as  they  sat  at  table.  This  afforded  more  tableaux 
than  ever.  The  utensils,  the  meats,  and  the  way  in  which  the 
pages  carried  them,  reminded  one  of  many  famous  pictures  of 
banquets  in  the  Renaissance  style. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  the  dishes  been  put  on,  when  the 
table  was  taken  away  again,  a  labour  which  again,  as  a  sign  of 
humility,  was  done  by  the  archdukes.  And  when  the  table 
had  been  carried  away,  the  special  climax-scene  of  the  piece 
(what  the  French  call  le  clou  de  la  pilce) — the  foot-washing — 
began.  This  was  indeed  only  a  sham  washing,  as  the  meal  had 
been  only  a  sham  meal.  Kneeling  on  the  floor,  the  emperor 
stroked  down  the  feet  of  the  old  men  with  a  towel,  while  the 
assisting  priest  made  a  show  of  pouring  water  out  of  a  can  ovei 


90  LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

them ;  and  so  he  glided  from  the  first  to  the  twelfth  old  man, 
whilst  the  empress — whom  one  was  accustomed  to  see  only 
majestically  seated  on  high — in  the  same  humble  attitude,  in 
which  she  did  not  however  lose  anything  of  her  accustomed 
grace,  went  through  the  same  proceeding  with  the  twelve  old 
women.  The  accompanying  music,  or,  if  you  like,  the 
explanatory  chorus,  was  formed  by  the  reading  of  the  gospel  of 
the  day. 

I  should  have  been  glad  for  a  few  moments  to  have  been 
able  to  feel  what  was  passing  in  the  minds  of  these  old  people 
while  they  were  sitting  in  this  strange  costume  stared  at  by  a 
glittering  crowd,  and  with  the  country's  father,  the  country's 
mother — their  majesties  —  at  their  feet.  Probably,  if  the 
momentary  exchange  of  consciousness  I  wished  for  could  have 
been  granted  me,  it  would  have  been  no  definite  feeling  I 
should  have  experienced,  but  only  a  confused,  dazzled  half 
dream,  a  sensation  at  once  glad  and  painful,  confused  and  solemn, 
a  complete  suspension  of  thought  in  those  poor  heads,  already 
so  ignorant  and  weak  with  age.  All  that  was  real  and  com- 
prehensible in  the  matter  for  the  good  old  folks  might  have 
been  the  prospect  of  the  red  silk  purses  with  the  thirty  silver 
pieces  in  them  which  were  hung  about  each  neck  by  their 
majesties'  own  hands,  and  of  the  basket  of  food  which  was 
given  to  each  on  their  departure  home. 

The  whole  ceremony  was  soon  over,  and  the  hall  then 
began  to  empty  at  once.  First  the  Court  went  out,  then  all  the 
others  who  had  taken  parts  withdrew,  and  the  public  out  of 
the  scaffold  and  gallery  at  the  same  time. 

"  It  7jvas  beautiful !  It  was  beautiful  I "  whispered  Rosa  with 
a  deep  breath. 

I  answered  nothing.  I  had,  in  fact,  no  cause  to  pity  the 
confusion  and  incapacity  of  thought  of  the  old  folks  in  the 
ceremony,  for  my  own  conception  of  what  had  been  going 
on  was  just  as  confused,  and  I  had  only  one  thought  in  my 
mind — "Will  some  one  be  waiting  for  us  outside?  " 

However,  we  did  not  get  to  the  exit  so  quickly  as  I  should 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  9I 

have  liked.  First  there  was  shaking  hands  and  exchanging  a 
few  words  with  nearly  all  the  spectators  on  the  scaffold,  who 
had  left  their  places  at  the  same  time  as  ourselves.  They  kept 
standing  in  a  great  group  on  the  stairway,  and  it  became  a 
regular  morning  party, 

"  Good-day,  Tini ! " 

^^  Bon-jour ^  Martha." 

"Ah  !  are  you  there  too,  countess?" 

"Are  you  engaged  for  Easter  Sunday?" 

"Good-day,  your  highness,  don't  forget  that  we  are  expect- 
ing you  to  a  little  dance  on  Monday  evening." 

"  Were  you  at  the  sermon  at  the  Dominicans'  yesterday  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  was  at  the  Sacred  Heart,  where  my  daughters  are  in 
retreat." 

"The  next  rehearsal  for  our  charity  performance  is  on 
Tuesday,  at  twelve,  dear  baron ;  pray  be  punctual." 

"  The  empress  looked  cuperb  again." 

"Did  you  notice,  Lori,  how  the  Archduke  Ludwig  Victor 
kept  sidling  off  to  the  divine  Fanny?  " 

^^  Madame,  f  at  r honneur  de  vous  presenter  mes  hof»mages,^* 

"  Ah  !  dest  vous,  marquis,  charmee  !  " 

"  I  wish  you  good-morning,  Lord  Chesterfield  ! " 

"Oh  !  how  are  you?  awfully  fine  woman,  your  empress." 

"  Have  you  yet  secured  a  box  for  Adelina  Patti's  perform- 
ance?    A  wonderfully  rising  star." 

"So  the  news  of  Ferdy  Drontheim's  engagement  with  the 
banker's  daughter  is  quite  confirmed.     It  is  a  scandal ! " 

And  so  the  chatter  went  on  from  all  sides.  An  unim- 
passioned  listener  would  hardly  have  concluded  from  these 
speeches  that  they  sprang  out  of  the  impressions  of  a  scene  of 
humble  devotion  just  concluded. 

At  last  we  got  out  of  the  gate,  where  our  carriages  were 
in  waiting,  and  a  crowd  of  people  were,  collected.  These  folks 
wanted  at  least  to  see  those  who  had  been  so  lucky  as  to  have 
teeo  the  gentry  who  had  been  spectators  of  the  Court ;  and  then, 


gt  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

on  their  side,  they  could  pass  themselves  off  as  people  only  a 
little  less  distinguished,  as  having  seen  the  spectators. 

We  had  scarcely  got  out  when  Tilling  stood  before  me.  He 
made  me  a  bow. 

**I  have  to  thank  you  again,  Countess  Dotzky,  for  the 
beautiful  wreath." 

I  gave  him  my  hand,  but  could  not  speak  a  word. 

Our  carriage  had  come  up ;  I  was  obliged  to  get  in,  and 
Rosa  was  pressing  me  forward.  Tilling  raised  his  hand  to  his 
cap,  and  was  retiring.  Then  I  made  a  great  effort,  and  said, 
in  a  tone  which  sounded  quite  strange  in  my  own  ears  : — 

"  On  Sunday,  between  two  and  three,  I  shall  be  at  home  ". 

He  bowed  in  silence,  and  we  got  in. 

*'  You  must  have  taken  cold,  Martha,*'  remarked  my  sister  as 
we  drove  away.  "  Your  invitation  sounded  quite  hoarse  ;  and 
why  did  not  you  introduce  that  melancholy  staff-officer  to  me  ? 
I  have  seldom  seen  a  less  cheerful  visage." 

On  the  day  appointed,  and  at  the  hour  named.  Tilling  was 
announced.  Before  that  I  had  made  the  following  entry  in 
the  red  book  : — 

"  I  expect  that  this  day  will  be  decisive  of  my  fate.  I  feel 
such  a  solemnity,  such  an  anxiety,  so  sweet  an  expectation.  I 
must  fix  this  frame  of  mind  on  these  pages,  so  that,  if  I  turn 
back  to  them  again  after  long  years,  I  may  be  able  to  recall 
quite  vividly  the  hours  which  I  am  now  looking  forward  to  with 
so  much  emotion.  Perhaps  it  will  turn  out  quite  differently 
from  what  I  expect — perhaps  exactly  the  same.  At  any  rate 
it  will  be  interesting  to  me  to  see  how  far  anticipation  and 
reality  correspond.  The  expected  guest  loves  me ;  the  letter 
he  wrote  from  his  mother's  deathbed  proves  that.  He  is  loved 
in  return ;  the  rosebud  in  the  funeral  wreath  must  have  shown 
him  that.  And  now  we  are  to  meet  without  witnesses,  moved  to 
our  hearts'  core — he  in  need  of  comfort,  I  penetrated  with  the 
desire  to  console  him.  I  expect  there  will  not  be  many  words 
pass.  Tears  in  both  our  eyes,  hands  clasped  tremblingly,  and 
we  shall  have  understood  one  another.  Two  loving,  two  happy 
mortals,  earnest,  devoted,  passionate,  devoutly  happy;  while 


LAY   DOWN   YOUK  ARMS.  93 

in  society  the  thing  will  be  announced  indifferently  and  drily, 
somewhat  in  this  fashion  :  *  Have  you  heard  ?  Martha  Dotzky 
is  engaged  to  Tilling — a  poor  match  !  *  It  is  five  minutes  past 
two.  He  may  come  now  any  minute.  There  is  a  ring  1  This 
palpitation,  this  trembling :  I  feel  that ** 

This  is  as  far  as  I  got.  The  last  line  is  scrawled  in  letters 
which  are  almost  illegible — a  sign  that  "  this  palpitation,  this 
trembling  "  was  not  a  mere  figure  of  rhetoric 

Anticipation  and  reality  did  not  correspond.  During  his 
half-hour's  call  Tilling  behaved  very  reservedly  and  very  coldly. 
He  begged  my  forgiveness  for  the  liberty  he  had  taken 
writing  to  me,  and  hoped  I  would  attribute  this  breach 
etiquette  to  the  loss  of  control  which  a  man  in  such  sorrowful 
moments  may  well  experience.  Then  he  told  me  something 
more  of  the  last  days  and  of  the  life  of  his  mother  ;  but  of  what 
I  was  looking  for,  not  a  word.  And  so  I  also  became  every 
moment  more  reserved  and  cold.  When  he  rose  to  go  I  made 
no  effort  to  detain  him,  and  I  did  not  ask  him  to  come  again. 

When  he  had  gone  I  rushed  again  to  the  red  book,  which 
was  lying  there  open,  and  went  on  with  the  interrupted  topic. 

"  I  feel  that  all  is  over — that  I  have  shamefully  deceived 
myself,  that  he  does  not  love  me,  and  will  even  think  now  that 
he  is  as  indifferent  to  me  as  I  to  him.  I  received  him  in  an 
almost  repellent  way.  I  feel  that  he  will  never  come  again. 
And  yet  the  world  holds  for  me  no  second  man.  There  is  no 
one  else  so  good,  so  noble,  so  intellectual — and  there  is  no  other 
woman,  Frederick,  who  has  loved  you  as  I  have  loved  you — 
assuredly  not  your  princess,  to  whom,  as  it  seems,  you  have 
turned  back  again.  Son  Rudolf,  you  must  now  be  my 
consolation  and  my  stay.  From  this  time  I  will  have  no  more 
to  do  with  woman's  love — it  is  mother's  love  alone  which  must 
now  fill  my  heart  and  my  life.  If  I  can  succeed  in  forming 
you  into  such  a  man  as  he  is — if  some  day  I  may  be  wept  by 
you,  as  he  weeps  for  his  mother — I  shall  have  gained  my  end." 

It  is  surely  a  foolish  habit — this  diary-writing.  These 
wishes,   plans,   and  views,   always    changing,   vanishing    and 


94  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

coming  anew,  which  form  the  current  of  our  souPs  life — to  strive 
to  immortalise  them  by  writing  them  down  is  a  mistake  to  start 
with,  and  brings  before  oneself,  when  one  peruses  it  in  after 
years,  the  constant  shame  of  having  to  recognise  one's  own 
fickleness.  Here  are  recorded  now  on  the  same  page,  and 
under  the  same  date,  two  such  different  humours — first  the 
most  confident  hope,  and  by  its  side  the  most  complete 
despair,  and  the  pages  next  it  may  give  proof  of  something 
quite  different  again. 

The  Easter  Monday  was  favoured  by  the  most  splendid 
spring  weather,  and  the  ride  in  the  Prater,  which  takes  place, 
according  to  custom,  on  that  day,  a  kind  of  holiday  preparatory 
to  the  great  Corso  of  May  Day,  went  off  with  especial  lustre. 
I  cannot  say  how  much  this  lustre,  this  delight  in  holiday 
and  spring  which  was  all  around  me,  contrasted  with  the  sorrow 
which  filled  my  spirit.  And  yet  I  would  not  have  given  up  my 
sorrow,  would  not  have  had  again  the  same  light,  and  there- 
fore also  empty  heart,  as  two  months  before — when  I  had 
not  made  Tilling' s  acquaintance.  For,  though  my  love  was, 
according  to  all  appearance,  an  unhappy  one,  yet  it  was  love — 
and  this  implies  a  raising  of  the  intensity  of  life — that  warm, 
tender  feeling  which  expanded  my  heart  as  often  as  the  dear 
image  passed  before  my  inward  eye.  I  could  not  have  lived 
without  it. 

I  had  never  thought  it  likely  that  the  subject  of  my  dreams 
would  come  before  my  eyes  here  in  the  Prater,  in  the  midst  of 
this  whirl  of  worldly  pleasure.  And  yet  when,  without  think- 
ing, I  happened  once  to  let  my  gaze  wander  towards  the  ride, 
I  saw  far  off  galloping  down  the  promenade  in  our  direction  an 
officer,  in  whom — though  my  short  sight  could  not  distinguish 
him  clearly — I  at  once  recognised  Tilling.  As  soon  as  he  came 
near,  and  crossed  our  carriage,  with  a  salute  in  passing,  I 
returned  his  greeting,  not  with  a  mere  bow,  but  with  warm 
gestures.  At  the  same  moment  I  was  aware  that  I  had  done 
what  was  unbecoming  and  improper. 

"  Who  is  that  you  were  making  those  signs  to?"  asked  my 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  95 

sister  Lilly.  "  Ah,  I  see,"  she  added,  **  there  is  the  inevitable 
Conrad  walking — you  were  waving  your  hand  to  him  ?  " 

This  timely  appearance  of  the  '*  inevitable  Conrad "  came 
very  apropos  for  me.  I  was  thankful  to  my  trusty  cousin  for 
it,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  give  effect  to  my  gratitude. 

"  Look  here,  Lilly,"  I  said,  "  he  is,  I  am  sure,  a  good  man, 
and,  no  doubt,  is  here  only  on  your  account  again.  You 
should  take  pity  on  him — you  should  be  good  to  him.  Oh,  if 
you  knew  how  sweet  it  is  to  have  any  one  dear  to  you,  you 
would  not  shut  your  heart  so.  Go  make  him  happy,  the  good 
fellow." 

Lilly  stared  at  me  in  astonishment. 

"  But  suppose  he  is  indifferent  to  me,  Martha  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  are  in  love  with  some  one  else  ?  ** 

She  shook  her  head :  "  No,  no  one  ". 

"  Oh,  poor  thing  !  " 

We  made  two  or  three  more  turns  up  and  down  the  pro- 
menade. But  the  one  whom  my  eyes  were  searching  after  all 
about  I  did  not  see  a  second  time.  He  had  quitted  the 
Prater  again. 


A  few  days  later,  in  the  afternoon.  Tilling  was  announced. 
He  did  not,  however,  find  me  alone,  for  my  father  and  Aunt 
Mary  had  come  to  call,  and  besides  these  Rosa  and  Lilly, 
Conrad  Althaus  and  Minister  "  To-be-sure  "  were  in  my  drawing- 
room. 

I  almost  uttered  a  cry  of  astonishment — this  visit  came 
upon  me  with  such  a  surprise  and  at  the  same  time  so  delighted 
and  excited  me.  But  the  delight  was  soon  over,  when  Tilling, 
after  exchanging  salutations  with  the  company,  and  taking  a 
seat  opposite  to  me,  at  my  invitation,  said  in  an  unconcerned 
tone: — 

"  I  am  come  pour  prendre  conge ^  countess.  I  am  leaving 
Vienna  in  a  few  days." 

•*For  long?"    •'Where  are  you  going?"     "What  is  the 


g6  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

reason  ?  "     "  What  is  it  about  ?  "  asked  the  others,  all  at  once, 
and  with  interest,  while  I  remained  dumb. 

"  Perhaps  for  good."  "  To  Hungary."  "  Exchanging  into 
another  regiment."  "  For  love  of  the  Magyars,"  explained 
Tilling,  in  answer  to  his  different  questioners. 

Meanwhile  I  had  collected  myself. 

"  It  was  a  sudden  resolution,"  I  said,  as  calmly  as  I  could 
**  What  harm  has  our  Vienna  done  to  you  that  you  quit  it  in 
such  a  violent  hurry  ?  " 

"  It  is  too  lively  and  too  gay  for  me.  I  am  in  a  mood  which 
makes  one  long  to  mope  in  solitude." 

"  Oh,  well ! "  said  Conrad,  "  the  gloomier  one's  mood,  the 
more  one  ought  to  seek  amusement.  An  evening  in  the  Karls 
theatre  has  a  much  more  refreshing  effect  than  passing  all  day 
musing  alone." 

"  The  best  thing,  my  dear  Tilling,  to  give  you  a  shake  up," 
said  my  father,  "  would,  I  am  certain,  be  a  jolly  rattling  war, 
but  unluckily  there  is  no  prospect  of  that  before  us.  The 
peace  threatens  to  last  as  long  as  one  can  see." 

"Well,"  I  could  not  help  remarking,  "that  is  an  extraor- 
dinary collocation  of  words,  'war'  and  'jolly,*  *  peace'  and 
*  threatening '." 

"  To  be  sure,"  assented  the  Minister,  "  the  political  horizon 
at  the  moment  does  not  show  any  black  point,  still  storm-clouds 
sometimes  rise  quite  unexpectedly  all  of  a  sudden,  and  the 
chance  can  never  be  excluded  that  a  difference — even  unim- 
portant in  itself — may  cause  the  outbreak  of  war.  I  say  that 
for  your  comfort,  colonel.  As  for  myself,  since  I,  in  virtue  of 
my  office,  have  to  manage  the  home  affairs  of  the  country, 
my  wishes  must,  to  be  sure,  be  directed  exclusively  to  the 
maintenance  of  peace  as  long  as  possible — for  it  is  this  alone 
which  is  naturally  adapted  to  further  the  interests  lying  in 
my  domain.  Still  this  does  not  prevent  me  from  taking  note 
of  the  just  desires  of  those  who  from  a  military  point  of 
view  are,  to  be  sure  " 

"  Permit  me,  your  excellence,"  interrupted  Tilling,  "  as  far 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  97 

as  I  am  myself  concerned,  to  protest  against  the  assumption 
that  I  wish  for  a  war,  and  also  to  protest  against  the  underlying 
principle  that  the  military  point  of  view  ought  to  be  different 
from  the  human.  We  exist  in  order  to  protect  the  country 
should  an  enemy  threaten  it,  just  as  a  fire  engine  exists  in  order 
to  put  out  a  fire  if  it  breaks  out,  but  that  gives  the  soldier  no 
right  to  desire  war  any  more  than  a  fireman  to  wish  for  a  fire. 
Both  involve  misfortune — heavy  misfortune — and  no  one,  as  a 
man,  ought  to  rejoice  over  the  misfortunes  of  his  fellow-men." 

"You  good,  you  dear  man,"  I  said,  in  silence,  to  the 
speaker. 

The  latter  continued : — 

"  I  am  quite  aware  that  the  opportunity  for  personal  distinc- 
tion comes  to  the  one  only  from  conflagrations  and  to  the  other 
only  from  campaigns;  but  how  poor  of  heart  and  narrow  of 
mind  must  a  man  be  before  his  selfish  interests  can  seem  to 
him  so  gigantic  as  to  blot  out  the  sight  of  the  universal  misery ! 
Peace  is  the  greatest  blessing,  or  rather  the  absence  of  the 
greatest  curse.  It  is,  as  you  said  yourself,  the  only  condition 
in  which  the  interests  of  the  population  can  be  furthered,  and 
yet  you  would  give  to  a  large  fragment  of  this  population,  the 
army,  the  right  to  wish  for  the  cessation  of  the  condition  of 
growth  and  to  long  for  that  of  destruction?  To  nourish 
this  *just'  wish  till  it  grows  into  a  demand,  and  then, 
perhaps,  obtains  its  fulfilment  ?  To  make  war  that  the  army 
may  anyhow  be  occupied  and  satisfied  is  just  as  if  we  set  fire 
to  houses  that  the  fire  brigade  may  distinguish  itself  and  earn 
renown." 

"Your  comparison,  dear  colonel,  is  a  lame  one,"  replied 
my  father,  giving  Tilling,  contrary  to  his  habit,  his  military 
title,  perhaps  to  remind  him  that  his  opinions  were  not  consis- 
tent with  his  calling.  "  Conflagrations  do  nothing  but  damage, 
while  wars  may  get  power  and  greatness  for  the  country.  How 
else  have  states  been  formed  and  extended  except  by  victorious 
campaigns  ?  Personal  ambition  is  surely  not  the  only  thing 
that  makes  soldiers  delight  in  war.      It  is   above  all  things, 

7 


gft  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

pride  in  one's  race,  in  one's  country,  that  finds  its  dearest 
nourishment  there — in  a  word,  patriotism." 

"  Especially  love  of  home  ?  "  replied  Tilling.  "  I  do  not  really 
understand  why  it  is  we  soldiers  in  particular  who  make  as  il 
we  had  a  monopoly  of  this  feeling,  which  is  natural  to  the 
majority  of  mankind.  Every  one  loves  the  soil  on  which  he 
grows  up ;  every  one  wishes  the  elevation  and  the  good  of  his 
own  countrymen.  But  happiness  and  renown  are  to  be  reached 
by  quite  other  means  than  war ;  pride  can  be  excited  by  quite 
other  exploits  than  deeds  of  arms.  I,  for  instance,  am  much 
prouder  of  Anastatius  Griin  than  of  any  of  our  field-marshals  " 

"Well,  but  can  anybody  even  compare  a  poet  with  a 
commander?"  cried  my  father. 

**  That  is  my  question  too.  The  bloodless  laurel  is  by  far 
the  more  lovely.** 

"  But,  my  dear  baron,**  said  my  aunt  at  this  point,  '*  I  have 
never  heard  a  soldier  speak  so.  What  becomes,  then,  of  the 
ardour  of  battle,  of  the  warlike  fire  ?** 

"  Dear  lady,  those  are  feelings  not  at  all  unknown  to  me. 
It  was  by  them  that  I  was  animated  when  as  a  youngster  of 
nineteen  I  took  the  field  for  the  first  time.  But  when  I  had 
seen  the  realities  of  butchery,  when  I  had  been  a  witness  of 
the  bestialities  which  are  connected  with  it,  my  enthusiasm 
evaporated,  and  I  went  into  my  subsequent  battles,  not  with 
pleasure,  but  with  resignation.'* 

"  Listen  to  me,  Tilling.  I  have  been  present  at  more 
campaigns  than  you,  and  have  also  seen  plenty  of  scenes  of 
horror ;  but  my  zeal  has  not  yet  cooled.  When  in  the  year 
»49  I  followed  Radetzky,  though  a  middle-aged  man,  I  felt 
all  the  same  delight  as  on  the  first  occasion." 

**  Excuse  me,  your  excellence.  But  you  belong  to  an  older 
generation — sl  generation  in  which  the  warlike  spirit  is  much 
more  lively  than  in  ours,  and  in  which  the  feeling  for  humanity, 
which  is  zealous  for  the  abolition  of  all  misery,  and  which  is  at 
this  time  extending  in  ever-widening  circles,  was  still  totally 
unknown.** 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  99 

•*  What  is  the  good  ?  Misery  there  must  always  be :  it  can 
JO  more  be  abolished  than  war." 

"  Pray  observe,  Count  Althaus,  that  in  these  words  you  are 
defining  the  only  point  of  view  (one  now  much  shaken)  from 
which  the  past  used  to  regard  all  social  evils — i.e.^  the  point  of 
view  of  resignation — as  one  looks  at  what  is  inevitable,  what 
is  a  natural  necessity.  But  if  ever,  at  the  sight  of  a  great  evil, 
the  doubtful  question  has  forced  itself  on  one's  heart,  *  Must 
ihis  be  so  ? '  then  the  heart  can  no  longer  remain  cold ;  and, 
!)esides  pity,  a  kind  of  repentance  springs  up.  Not  a  personal 
•epentance  indeed,  but — how  shall  I  express  it  ? — 2^  protest  from 
*/ie  conscience  of  the  age.^^ 

My  father  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "That  is  above  me," 
'.aid  he.  "  I  can  only  assure  you  that  it  is  not  only  we 
>ld  grandfathers  who  think  with  pride  and  joy  on  our  old 
irampaigns,  but  also  that  most  of  the  young  men  and  boys, 
if  asked  whether  they  would  like  to  go  out  to  a  war,  would 
answer  at  once :  *  Yes,  with  pleasure,  all  possible  pleasure  '." 

"The  boys,  surely.  They  have  still  in  their  hearts  the 
enthusiasm  which  is  implanted  at  school.  And  of  the  others, 
many  answer,  as  you  say,  *With  pleasure'  because  that 
answer  is  looked  on,  according  to  the  popular  conception,  as 
manly  and  courageous ;  and  the  honest  *  Not  willingly  *  might 
easily  be  interpreted  as  a  proof  of  cowardice." 

"  Oh  1 "  said  Lilly,  with  a  little  shudder,  "  I  should  be  a 
coward  too.  Oh,  how  horrible  it  must  be  with  bullets  flying  on 
all  sides,  and  death  threatening  every  instant  1 " 

"  That  is  a  sentiment  which  is  natural  in  your  mouth  as  a 
young  girl,"  replied  Tilling.  "But  we  men  have  to  repress  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation.  Soldiers  have  also  to  repress 
the  compassion,  the  sympathy  for  the  gigantic  trouble  which 
invades  both  friend  and  foe;  for,  next  to  cowardice,  what 
is  most  disgraceful  to  us  is  all  sentimentality,  all  that  is 
emotional." 

"  Only  in  war,  my  dear  Tilling,"  said  my  father,  "  only  in 
war      In  private  life,  thank  God,  we  too  have  soft  hearts." 


100  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

"  Oh  yes !  I  know  it.  It  is  a  kind  of  magic.  Immediately 
on  the  declaration  of  war  one  says  all  at  once  of  any  horror : 
'  Oh  !  that  goes  for  nothing  *.  Children  sometimes  make  the 
same  agreement  in  their  games.  *  If  I  do  this  or  that  it  goes 
for  nothing/  you  may  hear  them  say.  And  in  the  game  of  war 
the  same  conventions,  though  unspoken,  apply.  Manslaughter 
is  no  longer  to  count  as  manslaughter ;  robbery  counts  no 
longer  as  robbery ;  theft  is  not  thieving  but  *  requisition ' ;  vil- 
lages burnt  represent,  not  conflagrations,  but  *  positions  taken ', 
To  all  the  precepts  of  the  statute  book,  of  the  catechism,  of  the 
moral  law,  as  long  as  the  game  lasts,  the  same  applies — *  It  goes 
for  nothing '.  But  if  ever  occasionally  the  gambling  fervour 
slackens,  if  the  convention  that  *  it  goes  for  nothing  *  disappears 
from  one's  conscience  for  one  moment,  and  one  comprehends 
the  scenes  around  one  in  their  reality,  and  conceives  of  this 
depth  of  misery,  this  wholesale  crime  as  meaning  something, 
then  one  would  wish  for  one  thing  only  to  deliver  one  out  of 
the  intolerable  woe  of  such  a  sight — namely,  to  be  dead." 

"  Well,  really !  "  remarked  Aunt  Mary  meditatively,  "  sen- 
tences like  '  Thou  shalt  not  murder,'  *  Thou  shalt  not  steal,' 
Love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,'  *  Forgive  thine  enemies  * " 

"  Go  for  nothing,"  repeated  Tilling ;  *^and  those,  whose  call- 
ing it  is  to  teach  these  sentences,  are  the  first  to  bless  our  arms 
and  call  down  Heaven's  blessing  on  our  murderous  work." 

"  And  rightly  so,"  said  my  father.  "  The  God  of  the  Bible 
was  of  old  time  the  God  of  battles,  the  Lord  of  armies.  He  it 
is  who  commands  us  to  draw  the  sword.     He  it  is " 

"  Men  always,"  interrupted  Tilling,  "  decree  that  what  they 
themselves  want  to  see  done  is  His  will ;  and  they  attribute  to 
Him  the  enactment  of  eternal  laws  of  love,  which,  whenever  His 
children  begin  the  great  game  of  hatred.  He  suspends  by  His 
divine  *  Goes  for  nothing '.  Just  as  rough,  just  as  inconsistent, 
just  as  childish  as  man  is  the  God  whom  man  has  set  before  us. 
And  now,  countess,"  he  added,  getting  up,  "forgive  me  for 
having  inflicted  such  a  tedious  discussion  on  you,  and  alloM 
me  to  take  leave." 


LAY  DOWN   YOOR  ARMS*.  101 

Stormy  feelings  were  thrilling  through  me.  All  that  he  had 
just  said  had  rendered  the  beloved  man  yet  dearer  to  me.  And 
must  I  now  part  from  him,  perhaps  never  to  see  him  again  ? 
To  exchange  thus  a  cold  farewell  with  him  before  other  people 
and  let  all  end  so  ?  It  was  not  possible.  I  should  have  been 
obliged,  if  the  door  had  closed  on  him,  to  burst  out  in  sobs. 
That  must  not  be :  I  rose  up. 

"  One  moment,  Baron  Tilling,"  I  said ;  "  I  must  at  any  rate 
show  you  that  photograph  I  spoke  to  you  about  a  little  while 
ago." 

He  looked  at  me  in  amazement,  for  no  talk  about  a  photo- 
graph had  ever  passed  between  us.  However  he  followed  me 
to  the  other  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  where  some  albums 
were  lying  on  a  table,  and  where  we  were  out  of  hearing  of  the 
others. 

I  opened  an  album,  and  Tilling  stooped  over  it.  Meanwhile 
I  spoke  to  him  in  a  low  voice  and  all  in  a  tremble. 

**  I  cannot  let  you  go  in  this  way.  I  will,  I  must  speak  to 
you." 

"  As  you  will,  countess ;  I  am  listening." 

"No,  not  now;  you  must  come  again — to-morrow,  at  this 
hour." 

He  seemed  to  hesitate. 

**  I  command  it  By  the  memory  of  your  mother,  for  whom 
I  wept  with  you  1 " 

"Oh,  Martha  I" 

My  name  so  pronounced  thrilled  through  me  like  a  flash  of 
joy. 

"To-morrow  then,"  I  repeated,  and  looked  into  his  eyes, 
"  at  the  same  hour." 

We  had  settled  it  I  returned  back  to  the  others,  and 
Tilling,  after  he  had  put  my  hand  to  his  lips  again  and  saluted 
the  others  with  a  bow,  went  out  of  the  door. 

"  A  singular  person,"  remarked  my  father,  shaking  his  head. 
"  What  he  has  been  saying  just  now  would  find  little  favour  in 
the  higher  circles." 


102  LAY   I>qWN   XOUR  ARMS. 

When  the  appointed  hour  struck  next  day  I  gave  orders,  as 
on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit,  to  admit  no  one  else  except 
TilUng. 

I  looked  forward  to  the  coming  visit  with  a  mixture  of  feel- 
mgs — passionate  anxiety,  sweet  impatience,  and  some  degree 
of  embarrassment.  I  did  not  quite  know  the  precise  things  I 
should  say  to  him ;  on  that  subject  I  would  not  reflect  at  all. 
If  Tilling  asked  me  some  such  question  as  "  Now  then,  coun- 
tess, what  have  you  to  communicate  to  me — what  do  you  wish 
with  me  ?  "  I  could  not  surely  answer  him  with  the  truth ;  "  I 
have  to  communicate  to  you  that  I  love  you ;  my  wish  is  that 
you  should  stay  here  ".  But  he  would  not  surely  cross-examine 
me  in  so  bald  a  way,  and  we  should  readily  understand  each 
other  without  such  categoric  questions  and  answers.  The 
main  point  was  to  see  him  once  more;  and  not  to  part,  if 
parting  must  come,  without  having  spoken  one  heartfelt  word 
and  exchanged  one  fervent  farewell.  But  even  in  thinking  the 
word  "  farewell "  my  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

At  this  moment  the  appointed  visitor  came. 

"I  obey  your  command,  countess,  and — but  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  ?  "  said  he,  interrupting  himself.  "  You  have 
been  weeping  ?    You  are  weeping  still  ?  " 

"  I  ?  No,  it  was  the  smoke,  the  chimney  in  the  next  room. 
Sit  down.  Tilling.     I  am  glad  you  have  come." 

"  And  I  happy  that  you  ordered  me  to  come,  do  you  recol- 
lect, in  the  name  of  my  mother.  On  that  I  determined  to  tell 
you  all  that  is  in  my  heart.     I " 

"  Well,  why  do  you  stop  ?  " 

"  To  speak  is  even  harder  to  me  than  I  thought." 

"  You  showed  so  much  confidence  in  me  on  that  night  of 
pain  when  you  were  watching  by  the  deathbed.  How  comes 
it  that  you  have  now  lost  all  confidence  again  ?  ** 

"  In  those  solemn  hours  I  had  gone  out  of  myself:  since  then 
my  usual  shyness  has  again  seized  me.  I  perceive  that  on  that 
occasion  I  had  overstepped  my  right,  and  I  have  avoided  youi 
neighbourhood  that  I  might  not  overstep  it  again.* 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  IO3 

"Yes,  indeed,  you  seem  to  avoid  me — why?" 

**  Why  ?     Because — because  I  adore  you  ! " 

I  answered  nothing,  and  to  hide  my  emotion  I  turned  my 
head  away.  Tilling  also  was  struck  dumb.  At  last  I  collected 
myself  and  broke  the  silence. 

"  And  why  did  you  wish  to  leave  Vienna  ?  "  I  asked 

"For  the  same  reason." 

"  Could  not  you  recall  the  determination  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  certainly  could ;  the  exchange  is  not  yet  settled.* 

"  Then  remain." 

He  seized  my  hand. 

"Martha!" 

It  was  the  second  time  he  had  called  me  by  my  name. 
These  two  syllables  had  an  intoxicating  sound  for  me.  I  was 
compelled  to  answer  what  would  sound  as  sweet  to  him — 
another  two  syllables,  in  which  lay  all  that  was  bursting  my 
heart — so,  lifting  my  eyes  to  his,  I  said  softly : — 

"Frederick'*. 

At  this  instant  the  door  opened  and  my  father  came  in. 

"Ah!  you  are  there.  The  footman  said  you  were  not  at 
home,  but  I  replied  I  would  wait  for  you.  Good-day,  Tilling  I 
I  am  much  surprised  to  find  you  here  after  your  adieu  of 
yesterday." 

"  My  departure  is  put  off  again,  your  excellence,  and  so  I 
came " 

"  To  pay  my  daughter  an  arrival-call — all  right.  And  now 
to  tell  you  what  brought  me  here,  Martha.  There  is  a  family 
event " 

Tilling  got  up. 

"  Then  I  am  perhaps  in  the  way." 

"  Oh,  my  communication  is  not  so  very  pressing.** 

I  wished  papa  and  his  family  event  at  the  Antipodes.  No 
interruption  could  have  come  more  inopportunely.  Tilling 
could  do  nothing  now  but  go.  But  after  what  had  passed 
between  us  going  did  not  mean  parting.  Our  thoughts,  our 
hearts  remained  united. 


104  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low  voicci 
as  he  kissed  my  hand  on  leaving. 

**  To-morrow,  at  nine  o'clock,  in  the  Prater,  on  horseback," 
I  answered  rapidly  in  the  same  tone. 

My  father  took  a  rather  cold  leave  of  him  as  he  went  out, 
and  when  the  door  was  shut  behind  him — 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  stern 
countenance.  "  You  tell  them  to  deny  you — and  I  find  you 
t^ie-h-tete  with  this  gentleman  ?  "  I  turned  red,  half  in  anger, 
half  in  embarrassment. 

**  What  is  the  family  event  which  you ** 

**  This  is  it — I  wanted  to  get  your  lover  out  of  the  way,  so 
that  I  might  tell  you  what  I  think  of  it.  And  I  regard  it  as  a 
very  important  event  for  our  family  that  you.  Countess  Dotzky, 
nee  Althaus,  should  trifle  with  your  reputation  in  this  way." 

"  My  dear  father,  the  most  secure  guard  of  my  reputation 
and  my  honour  has  been  given  me  in  the  person  of  little 
Rudolf  Dotzky — and,  as  to  what  concerns  the  authority  of  the 
Count  Althaus,  allow  me  to  remind  you  with  all  possible 
respect  that,  in  my  capacity  as  an  independent  widow,  I  have 
outgrown  it.  I  have  no  intention  at  all  of  taking  a  lover,  if 
that  is  what  your  conjecture  points  at,  as  it  seems  to  be — but, 
if  I  choose  to  decide  on  marrying  agftin,  I  reserve  myself  the 
right  of  choosing  quite  freely  according  to  my  own  heart." 

"Marry  Tilling?  What  are  you  thinking  about?  That 
would  be  a  real  calamity  in  the  family.  I  should  almost  like 
better — but,  no — I  won't  say  that ;  but,  seriously,  you  have  no 
such  notion,  I  hope." 

"  What  is  there  to  say  against  it  ?  It  is  only  a  little  while 
since  you  came  offering  me  a  brevet-captain,  a  captain,  and 
a  major — Tilling  has  already  risen  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant- 
colonel  " . 

"  That  is  the  worst  thing  about  him.  If  he  were  a  civilian, 
he  might  be  pardoned  for  such  views  as  he  expressed  yester- 
day— but  in  a  soldier  they  come  near  the  bounds  of  treason, 
,  ,  ,  No  doubt,  he  would  like  to  get  his  discharge,  so  as  not 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  IO5 

to  be  exposed  to  the  danger  of  having  to  make  another  cam. 
paign,  the  fatigues  and  sufferings  of  which  he  evidently  dreads. 
And,  as  he  has  no  fortune,  it  is  a  very  good  idea  of  his  to  want 
to  make  a  rich  marriage.  But  I  hope  to  God  that  he  will  not 
find  a  woman  to  carry  this  idea  out  who  is  the  daughter  of  an 
old  soldier,  that  has  fought  in  four  wars,  and  would  be  ready 
to-day  to  turn  out  with  all  possible  pleasure,  and  the  widow  of 
a  brave  young  warrior,  who  found  a  glorious  death  on  the  field 
of  honour." 

My  father,  who  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  the  room  with 
great  strides  as  he  spoke  thus,  had  become  as  red  as  fire,  and 
his  voice  trembled  with  excitement.  I  also  was  moved  to  my 
heart's  core.  The  set  of  the  phrases,  the  contemptuous  words 
in  which  the  attack  on  the  man  of  my  heart  was  clothed 
annoyed  me.  But  I  did  not  care  to  make  any  rejoinder.  I 
quite  felt  that  my  defence  could  not  remove  the  unfounded 
injustice  here  done  to  Tilling.  That  my  father  considered  the 
views  expressed  yesterday  as  so  completely  false  depended 
merely  on  a  total  failure  to  understand  them.  My  father 
was  utterly  blind  to  the  point  of  view  which  Tilling  had 
reached.  I  could  not  make  him  see.  I  could  not  teach  him 
to  apply  a  different  ethical  standard  than  the  military  (which 
indeed  was,  in  General  Althaus's  eyes,  the  highest  standard) 
to  the  thoughts  which  Tilling  cherished  as  a  man  and  as  a 
philosopher.  But  while  I  remained  so  completely  dumb  in 
presence  of  the  outbreak  that  I  had  had  to  listen  to,  that  my 
father  might  well  believe  he  had  made  me  ashamed  of  myself, 
and  stifled  my  project  in  the  bud,  I  felt  myself  drawn  with 
redoubled  longing  towards  the  man  so  misunderstood,  and 
strengthened  in  my  resolve  to  be  his.  By  good  luck,  I  was 
really  free.  My  father's  disapproval  might,  to  be  sure,  trouble 
me  ;  but,  as  to  restraining  me  from  following  my  heart's  impulse, 
that  it  could  not  do.  And,  besides,  there  was  no  room  in 
my  soul  for  any  great  trouble.  The  wonderful,  the  mighty 
happiness  which  had  opened  before  me  in  the  last  quarter  of 
an  hour  was  too  lively  to  allow  any  vexation  to  mingle  with  it 


I06  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Next  morning  I  woke  with  a  feeling  like  the  one  I  always 
had  as  a  child  on  Christmas  Eve,  and  once  on  the  morning 
of  my  marriage  with  Arno— the  same  inexpressible  expec- 
tation, the  same  excited  anxiousness,  that  to  day  something 
joyful,  something  great  was  at  hand.  The  remembrance  of  the 
words  which  my  father  spoke  the  day  before  did,  to  be  sure, 
cause  a  little  trouble,  but  I  quickly  chased  this  thought  away 
again. 

It  had  not  struck  nine  when  I  left  my  carriage  at  the  entry  to 
the  Prater  Promenade  and  mounted  my  horse  which  had  been 
sent  forward  with  the  groom.  The  weather  was  spring-like  and 
mild — sunless,  indeed,  but  only  the  milder  for  that;  and, 
besides,  I  carried  the  sunshine  in  my  heart.  It  had  rained  in 
the  night ;  the  leaves  were  adorned  in  their  freshest  green,  and 
a  smell  of  moist  earth  rose  up  out  of  the  soil. 

I  had  hardly  ridden  a  hundred  paces  down  the  promenade 
when  I  was  aware  of  the  tread  behind  me  of  a  horse  coming  on 
at  a  round  trot. 

''  Ah,  how  are  you,  Martha  ?  I  am  pleased  to  meet  you 
here." 

It  was  Conrad— the  inevitable.  I  was  not  at  all  pleased  at 
this  meeting.  However,  the  Prater  was  certainly  not  my  private 
park,  and  on  such  a  beautiful  spring  morning  the  ride  is 
always  full.  How  could  I  have  been  so  foolish  as  to  reckon 
on  an  undisturbed  rendezvous  here  ?  Althaus  had  made  his 
horse  follow  the  pace  of  mine,  and  settled  himself  evidently  to 
be  my  faithful  attendant  in  my  ride.  At  this  tim6  I  perceived 
Frederick  v.  Tilling  at  a  distance,  who  was  galloping  down  the 
ride  in  our  direction. 

"Cousin  !  you  are  my  good  ally,  are  you  not  ?  You  know 
that  I  take  all  possible  trouble  to  dispose  Lilly  in  your  favour  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  noblest  of  cousins." 

"  Only  yesterday  evening  I  was  again  vaunting  your  good 
qualities,  for  you  are  really  a  grand  young  fellow — ^pleasant, 
discreet ** 

"  Whatever  do  you  want  with  me  ?  " . 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  IO7 

"  Just  to  give  your  horse  the  spur  and  ride  off." 

Tilling  was  by  this  time  quite  near.  Conrad  looked  first  at 
him,  then  at  me,  and,  without  speaking  a  word,  nodded  at 
me  with  a  smile,  and  went  off  as  if  he  was  flying  for  his 
life. 

"  This  Althaus  again  "  were  Tilling's  first  words  after  he  had 
turned  round,  so  as  to  ride  on  by  my  side.  In  his  tone  and  his 
manner  jealousy  was  plainly  expressed. 

I  was  pleased  at  it. 

"  Is  he  so  out  of  patience  at  seeing  me  ?  or  has  his  horse  run 
away  ?  " 

"  I  sent  him  away,  because " 

**  Countess  Martha,  odd  that  I  should  meet  you  with  this 
Althaus,  of  all  people  I  Do  you  know  that  the  world  says  he 
is  in  love  with  his  cousin  ?  ** 

"  It  is  true." 

**  And  is  trying  to  win  her  favour  ?  " 

"That  is  true  also." 

'*  And  not  without  hope  ?  *' 

"  Not  quite  without  hope.*' 

Tilling  was  silent.  I  looked  into  his  face  with  a  happy 
smile. 

"Your  look  contradicts  your  last  words,'*  he  said,  after  a 
pause.  "For  your  look  seems  to  me  to  say  'Althaus  loves 
me  without  hope '." 

"  He  is  not  in  love  with  me  at  all.  The  object  of  his  suit  is 
my  sister  Lilly.** 

"  You  take  a  weight  off  my  heart.  This  man  was  one  of  the 
reasons  for  my  wishing  to  leave  Vienna.  I  could  not  have 
borne  to  be  obliged  to  look  on.** 

"  And  what  other  reasons  had  you  besides  ?  **  I  interposed. 

"The  fear  that  my  passion  was  increasing;  that  I  should 
not  be  able  to  conceal  it  longer;  that  it  would  make  me 
ridiculous  and  miserable  at  the  same  time.*' 

*'  Are  you  miserable  to-day?*' 

"  Oh,  Martha  I     Since  yesterday  I  have  been  living  in  such 


I08  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

a  tumult  of  feel'ng  that  I  am  almost  beside  myself.  But  not 
without  the  fear,  as  when  one  has  too  sweet  a  dream,  that 
I  may  suddenly  awake  to  a  painful  reality.  I  have  no  right 
to  expect  any  return  for  my  love.  What  can  I  offer  you? 
To-day  your  favour  smiles  on  me,  and  lifts  me  into  the  seventh 
Heaven.  To-morrow,  or  a  little  later,  you  will  withdraw  from 
me  again  this  undeserved  favour,  and  plunge  me  into  an  abyss 
of  despair.  I  know  myself  no  longer.  How  hyperbolically  I 
am  speaking — I  who  was  formerly  such  a  calm,  circumspect 
man,  an  enemy  of  all  extravagance.  But  in  your  presence 
nothing  seems  to  me  extravagant  In  your  power  it  lies  to 
make  me  happy  or  wretched." 

**  Let  me  speak  of  my  doubts  too.     The  princess ** 

"  Oh,  has  that  chatter  come  to  your  ears  too  ?  There  is 
nothing  in  it,  nothing  at  all." 

"  Of  course  you  deny ;  that  is  your  duty.*' 

**  The  lady  in  question,  whose  heart  is  now  imprisoned,  as  is 
well  known,  in  the  Burg  theatre,  and  how  long  will  that  last  ? — 
for  it  is  a  heart  which  gives  itself  away  pretty  often — this  lady  is 
one  about  whom  the  most  circumspect  gentleman  need  hardly 
observe  the  silence  of  death.  So  you  are  doubly  bound  to 
believe  me.  And,  besides,  should  I  have  wished  to  leave 
Vienna  if  that  rumour  had  had  any  foundation  ?  " 

"  Jealousy  does  not  draw  reasonable  inferences.  Should  I 
have  ordered  you  to  remain  here  if  I  had  been  near  making  up 
a  match  with  my  cousin  Althaus  ?  " 

"  It  is  hard  for  me,  Martha,  to  be  riding  so  quietly  by  your 
side.  I  should  like  to  fall  at  your  feet,  to  kiss  at  least  your 
beloved  hand." 

**  Dear  Frederick,"  said  I  tenderly,  "  such  outward  acts  are 
not  needed.  One  can  embrace  with  words  too,  and  caress  all 
the  same  as " 

"  If  we  kissed,"  he  said,  concluding  the  sentence. 

At  this  last  word,  which  thrilled  through  us  both  like  an 
electric  shock,  we  looked  for  some  time  into  each  other's  eyes, 
and  found  that  one  can  kiss  even  with  looks. 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  XO9 

He  spoke  first,  "Since  when?"  I  understood  the  un- 
finished question  well  enough. 

'*  Since  that  dinner  at  my  father's/'  I  replied.     **  And  you  ?  " 

"  You  ?  That you^  does  not  suit,  Martha.  If  I  am  to  answer 
the  question  it  must  be  put  in  a  different  form." 

"Well?  and/>^«?" 

**  I  ?  Just  since  the  same  evening.  But  it  was  not  so  clear 
and  decided  to  me  till  at  the  deathbed  of  my  poor  mother. 
With  what  longing  did  my  thoughts  turn  to  you  !  " 

"Yes,  that  I  understood.  But  you,  on  the  contrary,  did 
not  understand  what  the  red  rose  meant  which  was  wound  in 
among  the  white  flowers  of  death,  or  else,  when  you  came  here, 
you  would  not  have  so  avoided  me.  I  do  not  yet  comprehend 
the  reason  of  this  holding  off,  and  why  you  wanted  to  go 
away ! " 

"  Because  my  thoughts  never  rose  to  the  hope  that  I  could 
win  you.  It  was  not  till  you  ordered  me,  by  the  memory  oj 
my  mother — ordered  me  to  come  to  you,  and  to  remain  near 
you — that  I  understood  that  you  were  favourably  disposed  to 
me,  that  I  might  dedicate  my  life  to  you." 

**  So  if  I  had  not  myself  *  thrown  myself  at  your  head,'  as  the 
French  say,  you  would  not  have  troubled  yourself  about  me  ?  " 

**  You  have  a  great  many  admirers.  I  could  not  mix  myself 
up  among  these  swarms." 

"  Oh,  they  do  not  count  for  anything.  Most  of  them  have 
no  other  object  except  as  to  the  rich  widow." 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  That  word  describes  the  bar  which  kept 
me  from  paying  my  court — a  rich  widow,  and  I  quite  without 
fortune.  Better  perish  of  unrequited  love  than  be  despised 
by  the  world,  and  especially  by  the  woman  I  adore,  for  the 
very  thing  which  you  have  just  imputed  to  the  crowd  of  your 
suitors " 


iStV,  "yoa,*»  h  used  In  German  to  strangers;  Dm,  •'thou,"  to 
intimates.  But  as  no  such  habit  prevails  in  England,  Du  is  translated 
into  the  ordinary  **  you  "  throughout  the  book. 


no  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"O  you  proud,  noble,  dear  fellow!  I  should  never  have 
been  capable  of  attributing  one  low  thought  to  you." 

"  Whence  this  confidence  ?  You  really  know  me  so  little  as 
yet." 

And  now  we  began  questioning  each  other  further.  On  the 
question  "  Since  when  "  had  we  loved  each  other,  followed  now 
the  discussion  "Why?"  What  had  first  attracted  me  was  the 
way  in  which  he  had  spoken  of  war.  What  I  had  thought  and 
felt  in  silence — believing  that  no  soldier  could  think  any  such 
thing,  much  less  utter  it — ^he  had  thought  more  clearly  than 
I,  felt  it  more  strongly,  and  uttered  it  with  perfect  freedom. 
Then  I  saw  how  his  heart  towered  above  the  interests  of  his 
profession  and  his  intellect  above  the  views  of  the  period.  It 
was  that  which,  so  to  speak,  laid  the  foundation  of  my  devoted 
love  for  him ;  and  besides  that  there  were  innumerable  other 
"becauses **  in  reply  to  the  "why ".  Because  he  had  so  hand 
some  and  distinguished  a  presence;  because  in  his  voice 
there  thrilled  a  soft  yet  firm  tone  of  its  own ;  because  he  had- 
been  such  a  loving  son  ;  because  .  .  . 

"  And  you — why  do  you  love  me  ?  "  I  asked,  interrupting 
myself  in  thus  rendering  my  account. 

"  For  a  thousand  reasons  and  one." 

•*  Let  us  hear.     First  the  thousand." 

"  The  great  heart ;  the  little  foot ;  the  lovely  eyes ;  the  bril- 
Uant  mind ;  the  soft  smile ;  the  lively  wit ;  the  white  hand ;  the 
womanly  dignity ;  the  wonderful " 

"  Stop !  stop  1  Are  you  going  through  the  whole  thousand  ? 
Better  tell  me  the  one  reason." 

"  That  is  no  doubt  simpler,  since  the  one  in  its  power  and 
irresistibleness  embraces  all  the  others.  I  love  you,  Martha, 
because  I  love  you.    That  is  why." 

From  the  Prater  I  drove  direct  to  my  father's.  The  com- 
munication which  I  had  to  make  to  him  would,  I  foresaw,  give 
rise  to  unpleasant  discussions.  Still  I  wanted  to  get  over 
these  inevitable  unpleasantnesses  as  quickly  as  possible — and  I 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  Ill 

preferred  to  face  them  at  once  under  the  first  impression  of  the 
happiness  I  had  just  won.  My  father,  who  was  a  late  riser, 
was  still  sitting  over  his  breakfast,  with  the  morning  papers, 
when  I  ran  into  his  study.  Aunt  Mary  was  present  also,  and 
likewise  busy  over  the  paper. 

On  my  rather  hasty  entrance  my  father  looked  up  in  surprise 
from  the  Fresse^  and  Aunt  Mary  laid  down  the  FremdenblatL 

"  Martha  I  so  early,  and  in  riding  dress !  What  does  that 
mean  ?  " 

I  embraced  them  both,  and  then  said,  as  I  threw  myself  into 
an  arm-chair : — 

"  It  means  that  I  am  come  from  a  ride  in  the  Prater,  where 
something  has  taken  place  which  I  wanted  to  tell  you  about 
without  delay.  So  I  did  not  even  take  the  time  to  drive  home 
and  change  my  dress." 

"And  what  is  this  thing  so  important  and  so  pressing?" 
asked  my  father,  lighting  a  cigar.  "Tell  us,  we  are  all 
anxiety." 

Should  I  beat  about  the  bush  ?  Should  I  make  introductions 
and  preparations?  No,  better  leap  in  head  over  heels,  as 
people  leap  from  a  spring-board  into  the  water. 

"  I  have  engaged  myself " 

Aunt  Mary  flung  her  hands  over  her  head  and  my  father 
wrinkled  his  brow. 

"  I  hope,  however,  not **  he  began,  but  I  did  not  let  him 

finish. 

"  Engaged  myself  to  a  man,  whom  I  love  from  my  heart, 
and  reverence,  and  of  whom  I  believe  that  he  will  make 
me  completely  happy — Baron  Fried,  v.  Tilling." 

My  father  jumped  up  I 

"  What  do  you  say  ?    After  all  I  said  to  you  yesterday." 

Aunt  Mary  shook  her  head. 

"  I  would  sooner  have  heard  a  different  name,"  she  said.  "  In 
the  first  place.  Baron  Tilling  is  not  a  match  for  you,  he  cannot 
have  anything ;  and,  in  the  second,  his  principles  and  his  views 
seem  to  me " 


112  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"  His  principles  and  views  coincide  entirely  with  mine ;  and 
as  to  looking  for  *  a  match/  as  it  is  called,  I  am  not  disposed  to 
do  so.  Father,  dearest  father  of  mine,  do  not  look  so  cruelly 
at  me,  do  not  spoil  the  great  happiness  which  I  feel  at  this 
moment !  my  good,  dear,  beloved  papa  ! " 

"  Well,  but,  my  child,"  he  replied,  in  a  somewhat  softened 
tone,  for  a  little  coaxing  used  always  to  disarm  him,  "it  is 
nothing  but  your  happiness  which  I  have  in  view.  I  could  not 
feel  happy  with  any  soldier  who  is  not  a  soldier  from  his  heart 
and  soul." 

"  But  really  you  have  not  to  marry  Tilling,"  remarked  Aunt 
Mary,  in  a  very  judicious  way.  **The  soldiership  is  the 
least  matter  in  question,"  she  added;  "but  I  could  not  be 
happy  with  a  man  who  speaks  in  a  tone  of  such  little  reverence 
of  the  God  of  the  Bible,  as  the  other  day " 

"  Allow  me,  dearest  Aunt  Mary,  to  call  your  attentici  to  the 
fact  that  you  also  have  not  to  marry  Tilling." 

"  Well,  what  a  man  chooses  is  a  heaven  to  him,"  said  my 
father  with  a  sigh,  sitting  down  again.  "Tilling  will  quit  the 
service,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"We  have  not  mentioned  the  subject  as  yet.  I  own  I 
should  prefer  it,  but  I  fear  he  will  not  do  so." 

"To  think,"  sighed  Aunt  Mary,  "that  you  should  have 
refused  a  prince ;  and  now,  instead  of  raising  yourself,  you  will 
come  down  in  the  social  scale." 

"How  unkind  you  are,  both  of  you,  and  yet  you  say  you 
love  me.  Here  I  come  to  you,  the  first  time  since  poor  Arno's 
death,  with  the  news  that  I  feel  perfectly  happy,  and  instead  of 
being  glad  of  it,  you  try  to  embitter  it  with  all  kinds  of  matters 
— militarism,  Jehovah,  the  social  scale ! " 

Still,  after  half-an-hour  or  so,  I  had  succeeded  somehow  or 
other  in  talking  the  old  folks  round.  After  the  conversation 
he  had  held  with  me  the  day  before,  I  had  expected  my  father's 
opposition  to  be  much  more  violent.  Possibly  if  I  had  only 
spoken  of  projects  and  inclinations  he  would  have  still  striven 
hard  to  quench  such  projects  and  inclinations ;  but  in  presence 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  II3 

of  the /ait  accompli  he  saw  that  resistance  could  not  be  of  any 
further  use.  Or,  possibly,  it  was  the  effect  of  the  overflowing 
feeling  of  bliss  which  must  have  been  sparkling  in  my  eyes  and 
quivering  in  my  voice  which  chased  away  -his  annoyance  and 
in  which  he  was  obliged  against  his  will  to  take  a  sympathising 
part — in  fine,  when  I  stood  up  to  go  he  pressed  my  cheek  with 
a  hearty  kiss,  and  made  me  a  promise  that  he  would  come  to 
my  house  the  same  evening,  and  there  salute  his  future  son-in- 
law  in  that  capacity. 

How  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  evening  passed  I  am  sorry 
to  find  not  described  in  the  red  book.  The  details  have 
escaped  my  recollection  after  so  long  a  time.  I  only  know 
they  were  delightful  hours. 

At  tea  I  had  the  whole  family  circle  assembled  round  me, 
and  I  presented  my  Freid.  v.  Tilling  to  them  as  my  future 
husband. 

Rosa  and  Lilly  were  delighted.  Conrad  Althaus  cried 
"  Bravo,  Martha  I  And  now,  Lilly,  you  take  a  lesson  I "  My 
father  had  either  overcome  his  old  antipathy,  or  he  managed 
to  conceal  it  for  my  sake ;  and  Aunt  Mary  was  softened  and 
touched. 

"  Marriages  are  made  in  Heaven,'*  she  said,  "  and  every  one's 
lot  is  according  to  His  will.  You  will  be  happy  if  you  have 
God's  blessing,  and  I  will  pray  continually  that  you  may  have 
it.'' 

The  "  new  papa  *'  was  presented  to  son  Rudolf  too,  and  it 
was  to  me  a  moment  of  peculiar  delight  and  joyful  anticipation 
when  the  dear  man  took  up  my  dear  child  in  his  arms,  kissed 
him  warmly,  and  said :  "  Of  you,  little  fellow,  we  two  will  make  a 
perfect  man  '*. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  my  father  put  his  idea  about 
quitting  the  service  into  words. 

**  You  will  give  up  your  profession,  Tilling,  I  suppose  ?  As 
you  are  already  not  in  love  with  war." 

Tilling  threw  his  head  back  with  a  gesture  of  surprise. 

'*  Give  up  my  profession  I     Why,  I  have  no  other  I    And 

8 


114  ^^Y   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

a  man  need  not  be  in  love  with  war  to  perform  his  military 
duty,  any  more  than " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  my  father  interposed,  "  that  is  what  you  said  the 
other  day — any  more  than  a  fireman  need  be  an  admirer  of 
conflagrations.** 

"  I  could  bring  forward  more  instances.  No  more  than  a 
physician  need  love  cancer  or  typhus,  or  a  judge  be  an  especial 
admirer  of  burglaries.  But  to  give  up  my  way  of  life  ?  What 
motive  is  there  for  that  ?  " 

"  The  motive,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  "  would  be  to  spare  your 
wife  the  life  of  a  garrison  town,  and  to  spare  her  anxiety  in 
case  of  a  war  breaking  out — though  such  anxiety  is,  to  be 
sure,  nonsense,  for  if  it  is  decreed  to  any  one  to  live  to  be  old, 
he  lives  so,  in  spite  of  all  dangers." 

"The  reasons  you  have  named  would  no  doubt  be  weighty. 
To  keep  the  lady  who  is  to  be  my  wife  from  all  the  unpleasant 
nesses  of  life,  as  far  as  possible,  will  certainly  be  my  most 
earnest  endeavour ;  but  the  unpleasantness  of  having  a  husband 
who  would  be  without  any  profession  or  business  would,  I  am 
sure,  be  even  greater  than  those  of  garrison  life.  And  the 
danger  that  my  retirement  might  be  charged  against  me  by  any 
one  as  laziness  or  cowardice  would  be  even  more  terrible  than 
those  of  a  campaign.  The  idea  really  never  occurred  to  me  for 
a  moment ;  and  I  hope  not  to  you  either,  Martha  ?  " 

**  But  suppose  I  made  a  condition  of  it  ?  " 

"  You  would  not  do  so.  For  otherwise  I  should  have  to 
renounce  the  height  of  bliss.  You  are  rich.  I  have  nothing 
except  my  military  standing,  and  the  outlook  to  a  higher  rank 
in  the  future  ;  and  that  is  a  possession  I  will  not  give  up.  It 
would  be  against  all  dignity,  against  my  ideas  of  honour." 

"  Bravo,  my  son  !  Now  I  am  reconciled.  It  would  be  a 
sin  and  an  outrage  against  your  profession.  You  have  not 
much  farther  to  go  to  be  colonel,  and  will  certainly  rise  to 
generals  rank — may  at  last  become  commandant  of  a  for- 
tress, governor,  or  mmister  of  war.  That  gives  your  wife  also 
0^  dftauaial^  position.'' 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  XZ5 

I  remained  quite  silent.  The  prospect  of  being  a  com- 
mandant's lady  had  no  charms  for  me.  It  would  have  better 
suited  me  to  have  spent  my  life  with  the  man  of  my  choice  in 
retirement  in  the  country  ;  but,  still,  the  resolution  he  had  just 
expressed  was  dear  to  me,  for  it  protected  him  from  any  stain 
of  the  suspicion  which  my  father  nourished  against  him,  and 
which  would  certainly  have  clung  to  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world. 

**Yes,  quite  reconciled,**  my  father  went  on,  "and  rightly 

too :  for  I  believed  it  was  chiefly  for  that  purpose Now, 

now,  you  need  not  look  in  such  a  rage — I  mean  partly^  for  the 
purpose  of  withdrawing  into  private  life ;  and  that  would  have 
been  very  unfair  of  you.  Unfair  too  towards  my  Martha — for 
she  is  the  child  of  a  soldier,  the  widow  of  a  soldier ;  and  I 
don't  believe  that  she  could  love  a  man  in  civilian's  costume 
for  a  continuance." 

Tilling  was  now  obliged  to  smile.  He  threw  me  a  look  which 
said  plainly  "I  know  you  better,"  and  answered  aloud:  •*! 
think  80  too  \  she  really  only  fell  in  love  with  my  uniform  " 


CHAPTER  VL 

Marriage  and  visit  to  Berlin. — Lady  Cornelia  von  Tessow 
and  her  son, — A  wedding  tour. — Life  in  garrison  at 
Olmiitz. — Christmas  at  Vienna. — Rumours  of  war. — A 
new-year's  party. — Back  at  Olmiitz. —  War  imminent. — 
Outbreak  of  the  Schleswig-Holstein  War, — History  of  the 
quarrel. 

In  September  of  this  year  our  marriage  took  place. 

My  bridegroom  had  got  two  months  leave  for  the  wedding- 
tour.  Our  first  stage  was  Berlin.  I  had  expressed  a  wish  to 
lay  a  wreath  on  the  grave  of  Frederick's  mother,  and  begin  our 
tour  with  that  pilgrimage. 

We  stopped  eight  days  in  the  Prussian  capital.  Frederick 
introduced  me  to  his  relatives  who  were  living  there,  and  all 
seemed  to  me  the  most  amiable  people  in  the  world.  And, 
really,  everything  we  met  was  pleasant  and  beautiful — wearing 
as  we  did  the  rose-coloured  glasses  through  which  one  looks  at 
the  outside  world  during  the  honeymoon.  Besides,  the  newly- 
married  pair  were  greeted  on  all  sides  with  cheerful  and  kindly 
politeness ;  every  one  seemed  to  find  it  a  duty  to  strew  new 
roses  on  a  path  already  so  sunny. 

What  pleased  me  particularly  in  North  Germany  was  the 
dialect.  Not  only  because  it  was  marked  by  my  husband's 
accent — one  of  his  qualities  which  had  excited  my  love  at  first 
— but  also  because  in  comparison  with  the  way  of  speaking 
used  in  Austria  it  seemed  to  announce  a  higher  level  of  educa- 
tion, or  rather  did  not  seem,  but  was  really  its  result.  Gram- 
matical solecisms  such  as  deform  the  common  speech  of  the 

(ii6) 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  II7 

best  circles  in  Vienna  do  not  occur  in  good  society  at  Berlin. 
The  Prussian  substitution  of  the  accusative  for  the  dative,  "  Gib 
mich  einen  Federhut,"  is  confined  to  the  lower  classes,  while 
in  Vienna  the  ordinary  confusions  of  cases,  such  as  "  Ohne  dir," 
"Mit  die  kinder,"  are  heard  commonly  enough  in  the  best 
drawing-rooms.  We  may  for  all  that  call  our  way  of  speaking 
kindly,  and  get  foreigners  to  take  it  «5  being  so,  but  it  shows 
some  inferiority  nevertheless.  If  one  measures  human  worth 
by  the  scale  of  education — and  what  more  correct  standard  can 
one  have  ? — then  the  North  German  is  a  little  bit  more  of  a 
man  than  the  South  German — an  assertion  that  would  sound 
very  arrogant  in  the  mouth  of  a  Prussian,  and  may  seem  very 
"  unpatriotic  "  from  the  pen  of  an  Austrian  authoress ;  but  how 
seldom  is  there  any  outspoken  truth  which  does  not  give 
offence,  somewhere  or  somehow? 

Our  first  visit  in  Berlin,  after  the  churchyard,  was  to  the 
sister  of  the  deceased.  From  the  amiability  and  intellectual 
accomplishments  of  this  lady  I  could  infer  how  amiable  and 
accomplished  his  mother  must  have  been  if  she  was  like  Frau 
Cornelia  v.  Tessow.  The  latter  was  the  widow  of  a  Prussian 
general,  and  had  an  only  son,  who  had  just  then  become  a 
lieutenant. 

I  never  met  with  a  handsomer  young  man  in  my  whole  life 
than  this  Godfrey  v.  Tessow.  It  was  touching  to  see  the  affec- 
tion between  mother  and  son ;  and  in  this  also  Frau  Cornelia 
seemed  to  have  a  resemblance  to  her  deceased  sister.  When 
I  saw  the  pride  which  she  visibly  had  in  Godfrey,  and  the 
tenderness  with  which  he  treated  his  mother,  I  was  already 
delighting  myself  with  imagining  the  time  when  my  son  Rudolf 
should  be  grown  up.  One  thing  only  I  could  not  understand, 
and  this  I  expressed  to  my  husband,  thus  : — 

"  How  can  a  mother  allow  her  only  child,  her  treasure,  to 
embrace  so  dangerous  a  profession  as  the  army  ?  " 

"My  dear,  there  are  simple  reflections  which  no  one  ever  makes,** 
Frederick  answered,  "  considerations  which  He  so  near  one  that 
no  one  ever  heeds  them.    Such  a  reflection  is  the  danger  of  the 


Il8  LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

military  profession.  People  do  not  allow  themselves  to  take 
that  into  consideration ;  it  is  thought  a  kind  of  impropriety  or 
cowardice  to  allow  that  to  weigh  with  one.  And  so  it  is 
assumed  as  a  matter  of  course  and  inevitable  that  such  danger 
must  be  survived,  and  indeed  is  nearly  always  survived  by 
good  luck  (the  percentages  of  killed  are  distributed  over  other 
people),  and  so  the  chance  of  being  killed  is  not  thought  of. 
To  be  sure,  it  exists ;  but  so  it  does  for  every  one  born  into 
the  world,  and  yet  no  one  thinks  about  death.  The  mind 
can  do  a  great  deal  to  chase  away  troublesome  thoughts.  And, 
lastly,  what  more  pleasant  and  more  respected  position  can  9 
Prussian  nobleman  occupy  than  that  of  a  cavalry  officer?* 

Aunt  Cornelia  appeared  also  pleased  with  me. 

"  Ah !  **  she  sighed  on  one  occasion,  "  how  I  wish  that  my 
poor  sister  could  have  lived  to  feel  the  joy  of  having  such  a 
daughter-in-law  and  seeing  her  Frederick  so  happy  as  he  is 
now  with  you.  It  was  always  her  warmest  wish  to  see  him 
married.     But  he  demanded  so  much  from  marriage " 

*'  That  it  did  not  seem  likely  he  would  fall  in  love  with  me, 
aunty.*' 

"  That  is  what  the  English  call  *  fishing  for  a  compliment '. 
I  only  wish  my  Godfrey  could  get  such  a  prize.  I  have  been 
long  impatient  to  know  the  joy  of  being  a  grandmother.  But 
I  shall  have  long  to  wait  for  that,  my  son  is  only  twenty-one." 

"  He  may  turn  many  young  ladies*  heads,"  I  said,  "  break 
many  hearts." 

**  That  would  not  be  like  him ;  a  better,  more  straightforward 
young  man  does  not  exist.  One  day  he  will  make  a  wife  very 
happy " 

"  As  Frederick  makes  his.* 

"  You  cannot  tell  that  quite  yet,  my  dear.  We  must  talk 
about  that  ten  years  hence.  In  the  first  few  weeks  almost 
every  one  is  happy.  Not  that  I  would  express  any  doubt  of 
my  nephew  or  of  you ;  I  believe  quite  that  your  happiness  will 
be  lasting." 

This  prophecy  of  Aunt  Cornelia  I  wrote  down  in  my  diary, 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  2  I9 

and  wrote  underneath  it :  *'  Did  it  come  true  ?     The  answer  to 

be  written  ten  years  hence."  And  then  I  left  a  line  blank. 
How  I  filled  up  that  line  in  the  year  1873 — well,  that  must  not 
be  set  down  in  this  place  as  yet 

After  leaving  Berlin  we  went  to  the  German  watering-places. 
If  my  short  tour  in  Italy  with  Arno  were  left  out  of  account — 
and  of  this  I  had  besides  only  a  dreamy  recollection — I  had 
never  been  away  from  home.  To  make  acquaintance  in  this 
way  with  new  places,  new  people,  new  ways  of  life,  put  me  into 
a  most  elevated  state  of  mind.  The  world  appeared  to  me  to 
have  become  all  at  once  so  beautiful,  and  thrice  as  interesting. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  my  little  Rudolf  that  I  had  left  behind, 
I  should  have  pressed  Frederick :  "  Let  us  travel  about  like 
this  for  years.  We  will  visit  the  whole  of  Europe  and  then 
the  other  quarters  of  the  globe.  Let  us  enjoy  this  wandering 
life,  this  unfettered  roving  to  and  fro,  let  us  collect  the  treasures 
of  new  impressions  and  experiences.  Anywhere  that  we  come 
to,  however  strange  may  be  the  people  or  the  country,  we 
shall  be  sure,  in  virtue  of  our  companionship,  to  bring  a  suffi- 
cient portion  of  home  along  with  us."  What  would  Frederick 
have  answered  to  such  a  proposition  ?  Probably,  that  a  man 
cannot  make  it  his  business  to  spend  his  life  in  a  wedding-tour, 
that  his  leave  only  lasted  for  two  months,  and  many  more  such 
reasonable  matters. 

We  visited  Baden-Baden,  Homburg,  and  Wiesbaden.  Every- 
where the  same  cheerful,  elegant  way  of  living  ;  everywhere  so 
many  interesting  people  from  all  the  chief  countries  of  the 
world.  It  was  in  intercourse  with  these  foreigners  that  I  first 
became  aware  that  Frederick  was  a  perfect  master  of  the 
French  and  English  languages — a  thing  which  made  him  rise 
to  a  still  higher  place  in  my  admiration.  I  was  always  dis- 
covering new  qualities  in  him — gentleness,  liveliness,  the  most 
quick  feeling  for  everything  beautiful.  A  voyage  on  the  Rhine 
threw  him  into  raptures,  and  in  the  theatre  or  concert-room, 
when  the  artists  performed  anything  peculiarly  excellent,  his 
enjoyment  shooe  out  of  his  eyes.     This  made  the  Rhine  and 


lao  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

its  castles  seem  to  me  doubly  romantic ;  this  redoubled  mj 
admiration  of  the  performances  of  celebrated  musicians. 

These  two  months  passed  over  only  too  swiftly.  Frederick 
applied  for  an  extension  of  his  leave,  but  it  was  decided  against 
him.  It  was  my  first  unpleasant  moment  since  my  marriage 
when  this  official  paper  arrived,  which,  in  curt  style,  ordered' 
our  return  home. 

"  And  men  call  that  freedom  1 "  I  cried,  throwing  the  offend- 
ing document  down  on  the  table. 

Tilling  smiled.  "  Oh  !  I  never  looked  on  myself  as  free  in 
the  least,  my  mistress,"  he  replied. 

"  If  I  were  your  mistress  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
command  you  to  bid  adieu  to  military  service,  and  live  only  to 
serve  me  in  the  future." 

"  On  this  question  we  had  agreed ** 

"  Yes,  I  know.  I  am  obliged  to  submit ;  but  that  proves 
that  you  are  not  my  slave ;  and  at  bottom  I  feel  that  that  is 
right,  my  dear,  proud  husband !  " 

On  our  return  from  our  tour,  we  went  to  a  small  Moravian 
city,  the  fortress  of  Olmiitz,  where  Frederick's  regiment  lay  in 
garrison.  There  was  no  opportunity  for  social  intercourse  in 
the  neighbourhood,  so  we  two  lived  in  complete  retirement, 
with  the  exception  of  the  hours  given  up  to  duty — he  as  lieu- 
tenant-colonel with  his  dragoons,  I  as  a  mother  with  my 
Rudolf.  We  gave  ourselves  up  to  each  other  only.  The 
necessary  ceremonial  calls  and  return  calls  had  been  exchanged 
with  the  ladies  of  the  regiment ;  but  I  could  not  lend  myself  to 
any  intimate  acquaintance ;  it  did  not  amuse  me  in  the  least 
to  go  to  afternoon  tea  parties  and  hear  stories  about  servant- 
maids  and  the  gossip  of  the  town,  and  Frederick  held  off  quite 
as  far  from  the  gambling  parties  of  the  colonel  and  the  drink- 
ing bouts  of  the  officers.  We  had  something  better  to  do. 
The  world  in  which  we  moved,  when  we  sat  in  the  evening  by  the 
boiling  tea-kettle,  was  worlds  away  from  the  world  of  Olmiitz 
society.     "  Worlds  away  "  often  in  a  literal  sense ;  for  some  ot 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  121 

the  favourite  excursions  of  our  spirit  were  directed  towards  the 
firmament.  For  we  often  read  together  scientific  works  and 
instructed  ourselves  in  the  wonders  of  the  formation  of  the 
world.  In  this  way  we  penetrated  into  the  depths  of  the  earth's 
centre,  and  the  heights  of  the  heavenly  spaces.  In  this  way 
we  explored  the  secrets  of  the  infinite  minuteness  revealed  by 
the  microscope,  and  the  infinite  distances  of  the  telescope ;  and 
by  how  much  the  wider  the  universe  expanded  before  our  gaze, 
by  so  much  did  the  affairs  of  the  Olmiitz  circle  shrink  into  nar- 
rower dimensions.  Our  readings  did  not  confine  themselves 
to  the  natural  sciences,  but  embraced  many  other  branches  of 
inquiry  and  thought.  Thus  I  took  up,  among  other  things, 
my  favourite  Buckle,  for  the  third  time,  to  make  Frederick 
acquainted  with  that  author,  whom  he  admired  quite  as  much 
as  I  did ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  we  did  not  neglect  the  poets 
or  novelists.  And  so  our  evening  readings  together  became 
real  feasts  of  the  mind,  while  the  rest  of  our  existence  besides 
was  a  continual  feast  of  the  heart.  Every  day  we  became  more 
fond  of  each  other.  As  passion  cooled  in  its  flame,  affection 
increased  in  its  intimacy  and  respect  in  its  steadfastness.  The 
relations  between  Frederick  and  Rudolf  were  a  source  of 
delight  to  me.  The  two  were  the  best  friends  in  the  world,  and 
to  see  them  playing  together  was  charming.  Frederick  was,  if 
anything,  the  more  childish  of  the  two.  Of  course  I  joined  in 
the  game  at  once,  and  all  the  nonsense  that  we  acted  and  said 
at  these  times  we  hoped  the  wise  and  learned  men  would 
forgive  us,  whose  works  we  read  when  Rudolf  had  been  put 
to  bed.  Frederick,  it  is  true,  maintained  that  apart  from  him 
he  was  not  very  fond  of  children  ;  but,  in  the  first  place,  the 
little  boy  was  the  son  of  his  Martha,  and  in  the  next,  he  was 
really  such  a  dear  good  little  fellow,  and  suited  his  stepfather 
so  wonderfully.  We  often  laid  plans  for  the  boy's  future.  A 
soldier  ?  No.  He  should  have  no  aptitude  for  it,  since  in  our 
scheme  of  education  there  would  be  no  drilling  him  into  a  love 
for  military  glory.  A  diplomatist?  Perhaps.  But  most  likely  a 
country  gentleman.     As  heir,  presently,  to  the  Dotzky  estate, 


Its  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

which  must  come  to  him  on  the  death  of  Arno's  uncle,  now 
sixty-six  years  old,  he  would  have  sufficient  business  in  manag- 
ing his  possessions  properly.  Then  he  might  take  his  little 
bride  Beatrix  to  himself  and  live  happily.  We  ourselves  were 
so  happy  that  we  would  gladly  have  seen  all  the  world— aye,  and 
future  generations  too — assured  of  the  treasures  of  all  life's 
joys.  Yet  we  did  not  shut  our  eyes  to  the  misery  in  which  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  was  groaning,  and  in  which,  for  some 
generations  at  any  rate,  they  must  continue  to  groan — poverty, 
ignorance,  want  of  freedom,  exposed  to  so  many  dangers 
and  ills  ;  and  among  these  ills  the  most  dreadful  of  all — War. 
"  Ah,  could  one  contribute  anything  towards  warding  it  oif  ?" 
This  wish  often  sprang  with  groans  from  our  hearts;  but 
the  contemplation  of  the  prevailing  circumstances  and 
views  was  enough  to  discourage  us  and  make  us  feel  that  it 
was  impossible.  Alas  I  the  beautiful  dream  that  for  every 
one  it  might  "be  well  with  them,  and  they  might  live  long 
upon  the  earth  "  could  not  be  fulfilled,  at  least  not  at  present. 
The  pessimist  theory,  however,  that  life  itself  is  an  evil, 
that  it  would  have  been  better  for  every  one  if  he  had  never 
been  born — that  was  radically  refuted  by  our  own  lot. 

At  Christmas  we  undertook  an  excursion  to  Vienna,  in  order 
to  spend  the  holidays  in  the  circle  of  my  family.  My  father 
was  now  fully  reconciled  to  Frederick.  The  fact  that  the 
latter  had  not  quitted  the  army  had  chased  away  his  former 
doubts  and  suspicions.  That  I  had  made  "  a  bad  match  ^ 
remained  indeed  the  conviction  both  of  my  father  and  Aunt 
Mary ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  could  not  help  perceiving 
the  fact  that  my  husband  made  me  very  happy,  and  that  they 
reckoned  in  his  favour. 

Rosa  and  Lilly  were  sorry  that  they  would  have  to  go  into 
"  the  world "  next  carnival  not  under  my  supervision  but  the 
much  more  severe  one  of  their  aunt.  Conrad  Althaus  was 
still,  as  before,  a  constant  visitor  at  the  house ;  and  I  could  see, 
I  thought,  that  he  had  made  progress  in  Lilly's  graces. 

Christmas   Eve  turned  out  very  gay.     A  great  Christmas 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  1 23 

tree  was  lighted  up  and  all  kinds  of  presents  were  exchanged 
between  one  and  the  other.  The  king  of  the  feast  and  the 
one  who  had  most  presents  was,  of  course,  my  son  Rudolf,  but 
all  the  others  were  thought  of.  Amongst  the  rest  Frederick 
got  one  from  me,  at  the  sight  of  which  he  could  not  repress  a 
cry  of  joy.  It  was  a  silver  letter-weight  in  the  form  of  a  stork. 
In  its  bill  it  held  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  in  my  writing  were 
the  words :  "  I  am  bringing  you  something  in  the  summer  of 
1864".  Frederick  embraced  me  warmly.  If  the  others  had 
not  been  there  he  would  certainly  have  waltzed  round  the  room 
with  me. 

On  Boxing  Day  the  whole  family  gathered  together  again  at 
dinner  at  my  father's.  There  were  no  strangers  except  the  Right 
Honourable  "  To-be-sure  "  and  Dr.  Bresser.  As  we  were  sitting 
at  table  in  the  familiar  dining-room  I  could  not  help  having  a 
lively  remembrance  of  that  evening  when  we  two  first  plainly 
recognised  our  love.     Dr.  Bresser  had  the  same  thought 

"  Have  ycu  forgotten  the  game  of  piquet  which  I  was  playing 
with  your  father,  while  you  chatted  over  the  fire  with  Baron 
Tilling  ?  "  he  asked  me.  **  I  seemed,  it  is  true,  quite  absorbed 
in  my  play,  but  nevertheless  I  had  my  ear  cocked  in  your 
direction,  and  heard  from  the  sound  of  the  voices — for  I 
could  not  catch  the  words  —  something  which  awoke  in  me 
the  conviction,  *  Those  two  will  come  together'.  And  now 
that  I  observe  you  together  a  new  conviction  arises  in  me, 
*  Those  two  are  and  will  remain  happy  together'." 

"  I  admire  your  penetration,  doctor.  Yes,  we  are  happy. 
Shall  we  remain  so?  That,  unfortunately,  depends  not  on 
ourselves  but  on  Fate.  .  .  .  Over  every  happiness  there  hangs 
a  danger,  and  the  more  heartfelt  is  the  former  so  much  the 
more  terrible  the  latter." 

**  What  have  you  to  fear  ?  * 

"Death." 

"  Ah,  yes !  That  did  not  occur  to  me.  As  a  physidan,  it  it 
true,  I  have  frequent  opportunities  of  meeting  the  gentleman, 


124  ^^Y   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

but  I  do  not  think  of  hira.      And,  indeed,  for  young  and 
healthy  people,  like  the  happy  pair  we  are  speaking  of,  he  lies 

so  far  in  the  distance " 

*  What  is  a  soldier  better  for  youth  and  health  ?  " 

"  Chase  away  such  ideas,  dear  baroness.  There  is  really  no 
war  in  prospect.  Is  it  not  true,  your  excellency,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  Minister,  '*  that  at  present  the  dark  point  so  often 
spoken  of  is  not  visible  ?  " 

"  *  Point  *  is  far  too  little  to  say,"  he  replied.  **  It  is  rather  a 
black,  heavy  cloud." 

I  trembled  to  my  heart's  core. 

"What,"  I  cried  out  sharply,  **  what  do  you  mean?** 

"  Denmark  is  going  altogether  too  far " 

"Oh,  Denmark?"  I  said,  much  relieved.  "Then  the  cloud 
is  not  threatening  us  ?  It  is  indeed  to  me  a  sad  thing,  under 
any  circumstances,  to  hear  th'at  there  is  to  be  fighting  anywhere ; 
but  if  it  is  to  be  the  Danes  and  not  the  Austrians,  I  feel  pity 
indeed,  but  no  fear." 

"  Well,  you  have  no  need  for  fear  either,"  my  father  broke 
in  hastily ;  "  even  if  Austria  were  to  protect  her  own  interests. 
If  we  have  to  defend  the  rights  of  Schleswig-Holstein  against 
the  supremacy  of  Denmark,  we  are  not  risking  anything  in 
doing  so.  There  is  no  question  of  any  Austrian  territory, 
the  loss  of  which  might  be  involved  in  an  unsuccessful 
campaign.*' 

"  Do  you  think  then,  father,  that  if  our  troops  should  have 
to  march  out  I  should  be  thinking  of  such  things  as  Austrian 
territory,  Schleswig-Holstein's  rights,  or  Danish  supremacy?  I 
should  see  one  thing  only — the  danger  of  our  dear  ones.  And 
that  would  remain  just  as  great,  whether  the  war  were  waged 
for  one  cause  or  another." 

"  My  dear  child,  the  fate  of  individuals  does  not  come  into 
consideration  in  cases  where  the  events  of  the  world's  history 
are  being  decided.  If  a  war  breaks  out,  the  question  whether 
one  or  another  will  fall  in  it  or  not  is  silenced  in  the  presence 
of  the  one  mighty  question  whether  one's  own  country  will  gain 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  *  125 

or  lose  in  it.  And,  as  I  said,  if  we  fight  with  the  Danes  we 
have  nothing  to  lose  in  the  war,  and  may  improve  our  power 
and  position  in  the  German  Bund.  I  am  always  dreaming  that 
the  Hapsburgs  may  yet  one  day  get  back  the  dignity  of  Ger- 
man  emperor,  which  is  their  birthright.  It  would  indeed  be 
only  proper.  We  are  the  most  considerable  state  in  the  Bund 
— the  Hegemony  is  secured  to  us,  but  that  is  not  enough.  I 
should  welcome  the  war  with  Denmark  as  a  very  happy  event, 
not  only  to  wipe  out  the  stain  of  '59,  but  also  so  to  improve 
our  position  in  the  German  Bund  that  we  should  get  a  rich 
compensation  for  the  loss  of  Lombardy,  and — who  knows  ? — 
gain  in  power  to  such  an  extent  that  the  reconquest  of  that 
province  will  be  an  easy  task." 

I  looked  across  to  Frederick.  He  had  taken  no  part  in  the 
conversation,  but  had  engaged  in  a  lively  laughing  prattle  with 
Lilly.  A  stab  of  pain  shot  through  my  soul,  a  pain  which 
united  into  one  twenty  different  fancies :  war ;  and  he,  my  All, 
would  have  to  go,  would  be  crippled,  shot  dead ;  the  child  in 
my  bosom,  whose  coming  he  had  greeted  with  such  joy  yester- 
day, would  be  born  into  the  world  an  orphan ;  all  destroyed, 
all  destroyed,  our  happiness  yet  scarcely  full-blown,  but  bearing 
the  promise  of  such  rich  fruit !    This  danger  in  the  one  scale — 

and  in  the  other ?    Austria's  consideration  in  the  German 

Bund,  the  liberation  of  Schleswig-Holstein,  "fresh  laurels  in  the 
army's  crown  of  glory  " — i.e.y  a  lot  of  phrases  for  school  themes 
and  army  proclamations — and  even  that  only  dubious,  for  de- 
feat is  always  just  as  possible  as  victory.  And  this  supposed 
benefit  to  the  country  is  to  be  set  against  not  one  individual's 
suffering — mine — but  thousands  and  thousands  of  individuals 
in  our  own  and  in  the  enemy's  country  must  be  exposed  to  the 
same  pain  as  was  now  quivering  through  me.  Oh !  could  not 
this  be  prevented?  Could  it  not  be  warded  off?  If  all  were 
to  unite,  all  learned,  good,  and  just  men  to  avert  the  threatened 
evil! 

*'  But  tell  me,"  I  said  aloud,  turning  to  the  Minister,  "  are 
affairs    really  in   so   bad   a   condition  ?     You  ministers  and 


126  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

diplomatists,  have  you  no  means  of  hindering  this  conflict  ?  Do 
you  know  of  no  way  of  preventing  it  from  breaking  out  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  then,  baroness,  that  it  is  our  office  to  main- 
tain perpetual  peace  ?  That  would,  to  be  sure,  be  a  grand 
mission,  only  not  practicable.  We  exist  only  to  watch  over  the 
interests  of  our  respective  states  and  dynasties,  to  work  against 
anything  that  may  threaten  the  diminution  of  their  power,  and 
strive  to  conquer  for  them  every  supremacy  possible,  jealously 
to  guard  the  honour  of  the  country,  to  avenge  any  insult  cast 
on  it " 

"  In  short,"  I  interrupted,  "  to  act  on  the  principle  of  war 
—to  do  the  enemy,  />.,  every  other  state,  all  the  harm  possible, 
and  if  a  dispute  begins,  to  persist  as  long  as  possible  in  assert- 
ing that  you  arc  in  the  right,  even  if  you  see  you  are  in  the 
wrong.     Eh?" 

"  To  be  sure." 

"Till  the  patience  of  the  two  disputants  gives  way,  and 
they  have  to  begin  hacking  away  at  each  other.  It  is 
horrible." 

"  But  that  is  the  only  way  out  How  else  can  a  dispute 
between  nations  be  decided  ?  " 

"How  then  are  trials  between  civilised  individuals  de- 
cided?" 

"  By  the  tribunals.    But  nations  have  no  such  over  them." 

"  No  more  have  savages,"  said  Dr.  Bresser,  coming  to  my 
help.  **  ErgOf  nations  in  their  intercourse  with  each  other 
are  still  uncivilised,  and  it  will  take  a  good  long  time  yet  before 
we  come  to  the  point  of  establishing  an  int^national  tribunal 
of  arbitration.*' 

"  We  shall  never  get  to  that,"  said  my  father.  "  There  are 
things  which  can  only  be  fought  out,  and  cannot  be  settled  by 
law.  Even  if  one  chose  to  try  to  establish  such  an  arbitration 
court,  the  stronger  governments  would  as  little  submit  to  it  as 
two  men  of  honour,  one  of  whom  has  been  insulted,  would 
carry  their  difference  into  a  court  of  law.  They  simply  send 
their  seconds  and  fight  to  set  themselves  right." 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  ll'J 

**  But  the  duel  is  a  barbarous,  uncivilised  custom." 

**  You  won't  alter  it,  doctor." 

"  Still,  your  excellency,  I  would  not  defend  it." 

** What  say  you,  then,  Frederick?"  said  my  father,  turning 
to  his  son-in-law.  "  Is  it  your  opinion  that  a  man  who  has 
received  a  slap  on  the  face  should  take  the  matter  before  a  court 
of  law  and  get  five  florins'  damages  ?  " 

"  I  should  not  do  so." 

**  You  would  challenge  the  man  who  insulted  you?  " 

"Of  course." 

"Aha,  doctor — aha,  Martha,"  said  my  father  in  triumph. 
"  Do  you  hear  ?  Even  Tilling,  who  is  no  friend  of  war,  sub- 
mits to,  and  is  a  friend  of,  duelling." 

"  A  friend  ?  I  have  never  said  so.  I  only  said  that  in  a 
given  case  I  would,  as  a  matter  of  course,  have  recourse  to  the 
duel,  as  indeed  I  have  actually  done  once  or  twice :  just  as, 
equally  as  a  matter  of  course,  I  have  several  times  taken  part 
in  a  war ;  and  will  do  so  again  on  the  next  occasion.  I  guide 
myself  by  the  rules  of  honour ;  but  I  by  no  means  imply 
thereby  that  those  rules,  as  they  now  exist  amongst  us,  corre- 
spond to  my  own  moral  ideal.  By  degrees,  as  this  ideal  gains 
the  sovereignty,  the  conception  of  honour  will  also  experience  a 
change.  Some  day  an  insult  one  may  have  experienced,  and 
which  is  unprovoked,  will  redound  as  a  disgrace,  not  on  the 
receiver,  but  on  the  savage  inflicter ;  and  when  this  is  the  case, 
self-revenge  in  matters  of  honour  also  will  fall  as  much  out  of 
use  as  in  civilised  society  it  has  become  practically  out  of  the 
question  to  right  oneself  in  other  matters.  Till  that  time 
comes '' 

"  Well,  we  shall  have  some  time  to  wait  for  that,"  my  father 
broke  in.  "As  long  as  there  are  persons  of  quality  any- 
where   *• 

"  But  that  too  may  not  perhaps  be  for  ever,**  hinted  the 
doctor. 

"Holloa!  you  would  not  get  rid  of  rank,  Mr.  Radical?" 
cried  my  father. 


128  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

"  Well,  I  would,  of  feudal  rank.  The  future  has  no  need  foi 
'nobility'." 

"  So  much  the  more  need  for  noble  men,"  said  Frederick  in 
confirmation. 

"And  this  new  race  will  put  up  with  their  slaps  on  the 
face?'* 

"  First  of  all  they  will  give  none " 

**And  will  not  defend  themselves  if  a  neighbouring  state 
makes  a  hostile  attack  on  them  ?  " 

"  There  will  be  no  attacks  from  neighbouring  states,  no  moie 
than  our  country  seats  now  are  besieged  by  neighbouring 
citizens.  As  the  nobleman  no  longer  needs  armed  squires  to 
defend  his  castle " 

"  So  the  state  of  the  future  will  dispense  with  its  armed 
hosts  ?    What  w^ill  become  then  of  you  lieutenant-colonels  ?  " 

**  What  has  become  of  the  squires  ?  " 

And  so  the  old  dispute  began  again,  and  was  prolonged  for 
some  time  longer.  I  hung  with  delight  on  Frederick's  lips.  It 
did  me  more  good  than  I  can  say  to  see  the  cause  of  noble 
humanity  so  firmly  and  so  confidently  defended  ;  and  in  spirit  I 
applied  to  himself  the  name  he  had  just  used — *'  noble  man". 

We  stayed  a  fortnight  longer  in  Vienna.  But  it  was  by  no 
means  a  pleasant  holiday  to  me.  This  fatal  "  prospect  of  war,'' 
which  now  filled  all  newspapers  and  all  conversations,  robbed 
me  of  all  pleasure  in  my  life.  As  often  as  I  thought  of  any  of 
the  things  of  which  my  happiness  was  made  up,  and  especially 
my  possession  of  a  husband  who  was  becoming  daily  dearer 
to  me,  so  often  was  I  reminded  also  of  the  uncertainty,  of  the 
imminent  danger  which  hung  over  all  my  happiness,  in  view  of 
the  war  which  was  looming  in  sight.  And  so  I  could  not,  as 
the  saying  is,  "  feel  myself  comfortable  ".  Of  the  accidents  of 
sickness  and  death,  conflagrations,  inundations,  in  short,  all  the 
menaces  of  Nature  and  the  elements,  there  are  sufficient ;  but 
one  has  habituated  oneself  not  to  think  about  them,  and  one  lives 
in  a  certain  sense  of  security  in  spite  of  these  dangers.     But 


LAY  DOWN   TOUR  ARMS.  1 29 

how  is  it  that  men  have  created  for  themselves  other  dangers 
arbitrarily  devised  by  themselves,  and  thus  of  their  own  will 
and  in  pure  wantonness  thrown  into  artificial  eruption  the 
volcanic  soil  on  which  the  happiness  of  this  life  is  founded  ?  It 
is  true  that  people  have  also  accustomed  themselves  to  think  of 
war  too  as  a  natural  phenomenon,  and  to  speak  of  it  as  elud- 
ing calculation  in  the  same  category  with  the  earthquake  or 
drought — and  therefore  to  think  of  it  as  little  as  possible.  But  I 
could  no  longer  bring  myself  to  this  way  of  looking  at  it.  The 
question,  of  which  Frederick  had  once  spoken  :  "  Must  it  then 
be  so  ? "  I  had  often  answered  with  a  negative  in  the  case  of 
war — and  at  this  time  instead  of  resignation  I  felt  pain  and 
vexation — I  should  have  liked  to  shout  out  to  them  all :  "  Do 
not  do  it ;  do  not  do  it ".  This  business  of  Schleswig-Holstein 
and  the  Danish  constitution,  what  did  it  matter  to  us? 
Whether  the  "Protocol- Prince"  abolished  the  fundamental 
law  of  November  13,  1863,  or  confirmed  it,  what  did  it  matter 
to  us  ?  Yet  all  the  journals  and  speeches  at  that  time  were 
full  of  discussions  on  this  matter,  as  if  it  were  the  most 
important,  most  decisive,  most  universally  comprehensive 
question  in  the  world,  so  that  in  comparison  with  it  the  query 
"Are  our  husbands  and  sons  to  be  shot  dead?"  ought  not 
even  to  be  considered.  Only  at  intervals  could  I  myself  for  a 
moment  feel  anyhow  reconciled  to  this  state  of  things,  />., 
when  the  conception  of  "  duty  "  came  directly  before  my  soul. 
It  was  true,  no  doubt,  we  belonged  to  the  German  Bund,  and, 
in  common  with  our  brothers  of  Germany  combined  in  that 
society,  we  were  bound  to  fight  for  the  rights  of  German  brothers 
who  were  being  oppressed.  The  principle  of  nationality  was  no 
doubt  a  thing  that  with  elemental  force  demanded  its  field  of 
action,  and  therefore  from  this  point  of  view  the  thing  must  be. 
By  sticking  to  this  idea  the  painful  indignation  of  my  soul 
subsided  a  little.  Had  I  been  able  to  foresee  how,  two  years 
later,  the  whole  of  this  German  band  of  brothers  would  be 
broken  up  by  the  bitterest  enmity,  that  then  the  hatred  of 
Prussia  would  have  become  far  more  burning  in  Austria  than 

9 


130  LAY   DOWN   YOUR    ARMS. 

the  hatred  of  Denmark  now  was,  I  should  have  recognised  even 
so  early  what  I  learned  to  know  later  on,  that  the  motives 
which  are  adduced  in  order  to  justify  hostilities  are  nothing  but 
phrases — phrases  and  pretexts. 

New-Year's  eve  we  again  spent  in  my  father's  house.  As  it 
struck  twelve  he  raised  his  glass. 

'*  May  the  campaign  which  is  before  us  in  this  new  year  be  a 
glorious  one  for  our  arms,''  he  said  solemnly;  and  at  these 
words  I  put  my  glass,  which  I  had  just  lifted  up,  down  on 
the  table  again.  "  And,"  he  concluded,  **  may  our  dear  ones 
be  spared  to  us  ! " 

In  that  I  concurred. 

**Why  did  you  not  drink  to  the  first  half  of  my  toast, 
Martha?" 

"  Because  I  can  have  no  wish  about  a  campaign,  except  that 
it  may  never  occur.'' 

When  we  had  got  back  into  the  hotel,  and  into  our  bedroom, 
I  threw  myself  on  Frederick's  neck. 

"  My  own  one  !     Frederick  I     Frederick  1 " 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Martha  ?  You  are  weeping  ; 
and  to-day — on  New- Year's  night  I  Why  then  salute  the  New 
Year  with  tears  ?  Are  you  not  happy  ?  Have  I  given  you  any 
offence  ?  " 

"  You  ?  Oh  no  !  no  I  You  make  me  only  too  happy — much 
too  happy— and  that  makes  me  anxious " 

"  Superstitious,  Martha  ?  Do  you  then  conjure  up  for  your- 
self envious  gods,  who  destroy  men's  happiness  when  it  is  too 
great  ?  *' 

"  Not  gods ;  it  is  senseless  men  who  call  misery  down  on 
themselves." 

"  You  are  hinting  at  this  possible  war.  But  it  is  certainly 
not  settled  as  yet.  Why  then  this  premature  grief?  Who  knows 
whether  it  will  come  to  blows  ?  and  who  knows,  if  so,  whether 
I  shall  be  called  out  ?  Come  here,  my  darling,  and  let  us  sit 
down,"  and  he  drew  me  to  the  sofa  by  his  side*  *'  Do  not  spend 
your  tears  on  a  bare  possibility." 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  I3I 

"  Even  the  possibility  is  terrible  to  me.  If  it  were  a  certainty, 
Frederick,  I  should  not  be  crying  so  softly  and  quietly  on  your 
shoulder.  I  should  have  to  shriek  and  wail  out  loud.  But  the 
possibility,  nay,  the  probability,  that  in  the  year  which  is 
opening  you  may  be  torn  from  my  arms  by  a  marching  order. 
That  is  quite  enough  to  transport  me  with  anxiety  and  grief." 

"  Bethink  you,  Martha.  You  are  yourself  going  to  meet  a 
peril,  as  this  Christmas  box  of  yours  so  charmingly  informed 
me,  and  yet  we  two  do  not  think  of  the  cruel  possibility  which 
threatens  every  woman  in  childbed  about  as  much  as  every 
man  on  the  battlefield.  Let  us  enjoy  our  life,  and  not  think  of 
the  death  which  is  impending  over  the  heads  of  all  of  us." 

"  You  are  talking  just  like  Aunt  Mary,  dearest,  as  if  our  lot 
depended  on  'Providence,'  and  not  on  the  thoughtlessness, 
cruelty,  excesses,  and  follies  of  our  fellow-men.  Wherein  lies 
the  inevitable  necessity  of  this  war  with  Denmark?" 

**  It  has  not  yet  broken  out,  and  there  may  still " 

"  I  know,  I  know ;  accidents  may  still  happen  to  avert  the 
cviL  But  it  is  not  accident,  not  political  intrigues  and  humours 
which  ought  to  decide  such  questions  of  destiny;  but  the 
firm,  righteous  will  of  mankind.  But  what  is  the  good  of  my 
« ought '  or  *  ought  not '  ?  I  cannot  alter  the  order  of  things. 
I  can  only  complain  of  it.  But  do  help  me  so  far,  Frederick  I 
Do  not  try  to  console  me  with  hollow  conventional  evasions  I 
You  do  not  believe  in  them  yourself  I  You  yourself  are  shud- 
dering with  noble  repugnance  !  The  only  consolation  I  find  is 
in  thinking  that  you  condemn  and  bewail  as  I  do  what  will  make 
me  and  numberless  others  so  unhappy." 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  if  this  fatality  should  come  to  pass,  then  I 
will  say  you  are  right  Then  I  will  not  hide  from  you  the 
shuddering  and  the  hate  which  the  national  slaughter  ordained 
on  us  awakes  in  me.  But  to-day  let  us  still  enjoy  our  life.  We 
surely  have  each  other — nothing  separates  us.  There  is  not  the 
slightest  bar  between  our  souls  I  Let  us  enjoy  this  happiness 
as  long  as  we  have  it ;  enjoy  it  to  the  full.  Let  us  not  think  of 
the  threatened  destruction  of  it    No  joy  assuredly  can  last  for 


13*  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

ever.  In  a  hundred  years  it  will  be  all  the  same  whether  oui 
life  has  been  long  or  short.  The  number  of  beautiful  days  is 
not  the  question,  but  the  degree  of  their  beauty.  Let  the 
future  bring  what  it  pleases,  my  dearly-loved  wife;  our  pre- 
sent is  so  beautiful,  so  very  beautiful,  that  I  cannot  now  feel 
anything  but  a  blessed  delight." 

As  he  said  this,  he  threw  his  arm  around  me,  and  kissed  my 
head,  which  rested  on  his  breast.  And  then  the  threatening 
future  disappeared  for  me  also,  and  I  too  let  myself  sink  into 
the  sweet  transport  of  the  moment. 

On  loth  January  we  returned  to  Olmiitz. 

No  one  any  longer  doubted  about  the  outbreak  of  war.  I 
had  heard  a  few  individuals  in  Vienna  hope  that  the  Schleswig- 
Holstein  dispute  could  even  yet  be  capable  of  diplomatic 
settlement ;  but  in  the  military  circles  of  our  garrison  town 
all  possibility  of  peace  was  held  to  be  out  of  the  question. 
Among  the  officers  and  their  wives  there  prevailed  an  excited, 
but  on  the  whole  joyfully  excited,  temper.  Opportunities  for 
distinction  and  advancement  were  in  prospect,  for  the  satis- 
faction of  the  love  of  adventure  in  one,  the  ambition  of  another, 
the  thirst  for  promotion  of  a  third. 

**This  is  a  famous  war  which  is  in  prospect,"  said  the 
colonel,  to  whose  house,  with  several  other  officers  and  their 
wives,  we  were  invited  to  dinner ;  "  a  famous  war,  and  one  that 
must  be  immensely  popular.  No  danger  to  our  territory ;  and 
even  the  population  of  our  country  will  suffer  no  diminution, 
since  the  scene  of  war  lies  on  foreign  soil." 

"  What  inspires  me  in  the  matter,"  said  a  young  first  lieu- 
tenant, "is  the  noble  motive,  to  defend  the  rights  of  our 
brethren  under  oppression.  The  fact  that  the  Prussians  are 
marching  with  us — or  rather  we  with  them — assures  us  in  the 
first  place  of  victory,  and  in  the  next  place  it  will  bind  still 
closer  the  bonds  of  nationality.     The  national  idea " 

"  1  had  rather  you  would  not  talk  about  that,"  interposed  the 
colonel  rather  sternly.     "  That  humbug  does  not  sit  well  on 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  1 33 

AD  Austrian.  It  was  that  that  raised  up  the  Italian  war  against 
us ;  for  it  was  on  this  hobby-horse,  *  Italy  for  the  Italians,'  that 
Louis  Napoleon  kept  always  mounting,  and  the  whole  principle 
is  specially  unsuitable  for  Austria.  Bohemians,  Hungarians, 
Germans,  Croats — where  is  the  bond  of  nationality?  We 
know  one  principle  only  which  unites  us,  and  that  is  a  loyal 
love  of  our  reigning  family.  Therefore,  what  ought  to  put 
spirit  into  us  when  we  take  the  field  is  not  the  circumstance 
that  we  are  Germans,  and  have  Germans  as  allies,  but  that  we 
can  render  loyal  service  to  our  exalted  and  beloved  commander- 
in-chief.     The  emperor's  health  !  " 

All  stood  up  to  drink  the  toast.  A  spark  of  animation  even 
reached  my  heart,  inflaming  it  for  a  moment  and  filling  it  with 
a  warmth  that  did  me  good.  That  thousands  should  love  one 
and  the  same  cause,  one  and  the  same  person,  is  a  thing  which 
produces  a  peculiar,  a  thousandfold  impulse  of  devotion.  And 
that  is  the  feeling  which  swells  the  heart  under  the  name  of 
loyalty,  patriotism,  or  esprit -de-corps.  It  is  in  reality  nothing 
but  love ;  and  this  has  such  a  mighty  working  that  a  man 
regards  the  work  of  hatred  ordained  in  its  name,  even  the  most 
horrible  work  of  the  deadliest  hatred — War — as  the  fulfilment 
of  the  duty  of  his  love. 

But  this  glow  only  lasted  in  my  heart  for  one  instant,  for  a 
love  stronger  than  that  for  any  earthly  fatherland  or  father  of 
the  country  filled  its  depths — the  love  of  my  husband.  His 
life  was  to  me  in  all  cases  the  dearest  of  my  possessions,  and 
if  //  was  to  be  the  stake  I  could  do  nothing  but  abhor  the 
game,  whether  it  was  to  be  played  for  Schleswig-Holstein  or 
Japan. 

The  time  which  now  followed  I  passed  in  unspeakable  anxiety. 
On  1 6th  January  the  powers  of  the  Bund  addressed  a  demand  to 
Denmark  calling  on  her  to  abrogate  a  certain  law,  against  which 
ihe  Convocation  of  Estates  and  the  nobles  of  Holstein  had 
invoked  the  protection  of  the  Bund,  and  to  do  this  in  twenty-four 
hours.  Denmark  refused.  Who  would  consent  to  be  com- 
manded in  that  fashion  ?    This  refusal  had  been  foreseen,  of 


134  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

course,  for  Austrian  and  Prussian  troops  stood  ready  posted  on 
the  frontier;  and  on  ist  February  they  crossed  the  Eider. 

So  the  bloody  die  was  cast  again — the  game  had  begun.  This 
gave  occasion  to  my  father  to  send  us  a  letter  of  congratulation. 

"  Rejoice,  my  children,"  he  wrote  "  Now  we  have  at  length 
an  opportunity  to  repair  the  losses  we  got  in  '59,  by  inflicting 
losses  on  the  Danes.  When  we  have  come  back  from  the 
north  as  conquerors,  we  shall  be  able  to  turn  our  faces  south- 
wards again.  The  Prussians  will  remain  our  constant  allies ; 
and  in  that  case  these  shabby  Italians  and  their  intriguing  Louis 
Napoleon  cannot  again  stand  up  against  us." 

Frederick's  regiment,  to  the  great  disappointment  of  the 
colonel  and  the  corps  of  officers,  was  not  despatched  to  the 
frontier.     This  fact  brought  us  a  paternal  letter  of  condolence: — 

"  I  am  heartily  sorry  that  Tilling  has  the  ill-luck  to  be  serv- 
ing in  just  one  of  the  regiments  which  are  not  called  on  to  open 
the  campaign  which  has  such  glorious  prospects,  but  there 
remains  always  the  possibility  that  he  will  be  marked  out  to 
follow  in  support.  Martha,  indeed,  will  look  on  the  best  side 
of  the  business,  and  be  glad  that  the  fear  for  her  beloved  hus- 
band is  spared  her,  and  Frederick  also  is  confessedly  no  friend 
of  war ;  but  I  think  he  is  only  against  it  in  principle,  that  is  to 
say,  he  would  rather,  on  grounds  of  so-called  *  humanity,'  that  it 
should  never  come  to  fighting,  but  when  it  has  so  come,  then 
he  would,  I  know,  rather  have  a  part  in  it,  for  then  I  know  his 
manly  love  of  battle  would  awake.  In  truth  it  ought  to  be  the 
whole  army  that  should  always  be  sent  to  meet  the  foe;  at 
such  a  time  to  be  forced  to  stay  at  home  is  surely  something 
altogether  too  hard  on  a  soldier." 

"  Does  it  strike  you  as  hard,  my  Frederick,  to  remain  with 
me  ?  "  I  asked,  after  reading  the  letter. 

He  pressed  me  to  his  heart  The  dumb  reply  contented 
me. 

But  what  was  the  good  of  it  ?  My  peace  was  gone.  The 
order  to  march  might  come  any  day.  If  the  unhappy  wai 
could  only  be  brought  to  an  end  quickly  I    With  the  greatest 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I35 

eagerness  did  I  read  in  the  newspapers  the  news  from  the  seat 
of  war,  and  warmly  did  I  wish  that  the  allies  might  win  speedy 
and  decisive  victories.  I  confess  that  the  wish  had  no  patriotism 
at  ail  in  it.  I  should  indeed  have  preferred  that  the  victory 
should  be  on  our  side  ;  but  what  I  hoped  from  it  was  the  ter- 
mination of  the  war,  before  my  "  all  on  earth  "  was  out  there  ; 
and  then  only  in  the  second  degree  the  triumph  of  my  country- 
men, and  quite  in  the  last  the  "sea-surrounded"  patch  of 
country.  Whether,  however,  Schleswig  was  to  belong  to  Den- 
mark or  no,  what  in  the  world  could  that  matter  to  me  ?  And 
finally,  what  matter  could  it  make  to  the  Danes  and  Schleswig- 
Holsteiners  themselves  ?  Could  not  then  the  two  nations 
themselves  see  that  it  was  only  their  rulers  who  were  quarrelling 
about  the  possession  of  territory  and  power,  and  that  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  for  example,  the  question  was  not  their  good  or  their 
suffering,  but  the  wishes  of  the  so-called  Prince  "  Protocol " 
and  of  the  Augusten burgs?  If  a  number  of  dogs  are 
fighting  over  some  bones,  i*  is  still  only  the  dogs  themselves 
who  tear  each  other ;  but  in  the  history  of  nationr  it  is  chiefly 
the  poor  silly  bones  themselves  that  rush  at  each  other  and  knock 
each  other  to  pieces  on  the  two  sides,  in  fighting  for  the  rights  of 
the  combatants  who  covet  them.  "  Lion  wants  me,"  or  "  Towser 
has  a  claim  on  me  ".  *'  I  protest  against  Caro's  fangs,"  or  •*  I 
reckon  it  an  honour  to  be  swallowed  by  Growler,"  cry  the  bones. 
"  Denmark  up  to  the  Eider,"  shouted  the  Danish  patriots. 
"  We  will  have  Frederick  of  Augustenburg  for  our  duke," 
shouted  the  loyahsts  of  Holstein.  The  articles  in  our  papers 
and  the  talk  of  our  quidnuncs  were  all  of  course  permeated  by 
the  principle  that  the  cause  for  which  "we"  had  entered  into  the 
war  was  the  right  one,  the  only  one  which  was  "  historically 
developed  " — the  only  one  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of 
**  the  balance  of  power  in  Europe  ".  And  of  course  the  opposite 
principle  was  maintained  with  equal  emphasis  in  the  leading 
articles  and  the  political  speeches  in  Copenhagen.  Why  not  on 
both  sides  weigh  the  rival  claims,  in  order  to  come  to  an 
understanding:   and  if  this  should  fail,  make  a  third  power 


136  LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS. 

arbitrator  ?  Why  go  on  always  shouting  on  both  sides,  "1,1 
am  in  the  right" — and  even  shouting  it  out  against  one's  own 
conviction,  till  one  has  shouted  oneself  hoarse,  and  finishes 
by  leaving  the  decision  to  Force  f  Is  not  that  savagery  ?  And 
even  should  a  third  power  mix  in  the  strife,  it  also  does  so,  not 
with  a  balancing  of  rights  or  a  judicial  sentence,  but  equally 
with  downright  blows  !  And  that  is  what  people  call  "foreign 
pohtics".  Foreign  and  domestic  savagery  it  is — statesman- 
like tomfoolery — international  barbarism  I 

It  is  true  that  I  did  not  at  that  time  look  at  what  was  going 
on  in  this  light  with  such  certainty  as  this.  It  was  only  for  a 
few  moments  that  doubts  of  this  sort  woke  up  in  me,  and  then 
I  took  all  possible  pains  to  chase  them  away.  I  attempted  to 
persuade  myself  that  the  mysterious  thing  called  "  reasons  ot 
state,"  a  thing  elevated  above  all  private  reason,  and  particularly 
my  own  poor  faculties,  was  a  principle  on  which  the  life  of 
states  depends,  and  I  began  a  zealous  study  of  the  history  of 
Schleswig-Holstein,  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  conception  of  the 
"  historic  rights  "  which  it  was  the  object  of  the  present  pro- 
ceedings to  maintain. 

And  then  I  discovered  that  the  strip  of  land  in  dispute  had, 
as  early  as  the  year  1027,  been  ceded  to  Denmark.  So,  in 
reality,  the  Danes  are  in  the  right.  They  are  the  legitimate 
kings  of  the  country. 

But  then,  200  years  later,  the  district  was  made  over  to  a 
younger  branch  of  the  royal  house,  and  then  ranked  rather  as  a 
fief  of  the  Danish  crown.  In  1326  Schleswig  was  given  over  to 
Count  Gerhard  of  Holstein,  and  "the  Constitution  of  Waldemar  " 
provides  that  "it  should  never  again  be  so  far  united  with 
Denmark  that  there  should  be  but  one  lord ".  Oh !  then  the 
right  is  still  on  the  side  of  the  allies.  We  are  fighting  for  the 
Constitution  of  Waldemar.  That  is  quite  correct,  for  what  is 
the  use  of  these  securities  on  paper  if  they  are  not  to  be 
upheld  ? 

In  the  year  1448   the  Constitution  of  Waldemar  was  again 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  tyj 

confirmed  by  King  Christian  I.  So  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  there  must  and  shall  never  again  be  "  one  lord  ".  What 
has  the  Protocol-Prince  to  do  in  the  matter  ? 

Twelve  years  later,  the  ruler  of  Schleswig  dies  without  issue, 
and  the  Estates  of  the  country  meet  at  Ripen  (it  would  be 
well  if  we  always  knew  with  such  exactness  when  and  where  the 
Estates  met— well,  it  was  in  1460  at  Ripen),  and  they  proclaim 
the  King  of  Denmark  Duke  of  Schleswig,  in  return  for  which 
he  promises  them  that  the  countries  "  shall  remain  together  for 
ever,  undivided".  This  makes  me  again  a  little  confused. 
The  only  point  to  hold  by  is  that  they  "  shall  remain  together 
for  ever  ". 

But  the  confusion  goes  on  constantly  increasing,  as  this  his- 
torical study  takes  a  wider  circuit ;  for  now  in  spite  of  the  formula 
*'  for  ever  undivided"  (the  word  '*for  ever"  plays  an  exquisite 
part  generally  in  political  business),  there  commences  an  ever- 
lasting cutting  up  and  division  of  the  territory  amongst  the  king's 
sons  and  a  reunion  of  these  under  a  succeeding  king,  and  the 
founding  of  new  families,  Holstein-Gottorp  and  Schleswig- 
Sonderburg,  which  with  reciprocal  shuffling  and  cessions  of 
their  shares,  again  separate  themselves  into  the  families  of 
Sonderburg  -  Augustenburg,  Beck-Glucksburg,  Sonderburg- 
Glticksburg,  Holstein-Gliickstadt.  In  short,  I  no  longer  knew 
where  I  was. 

But  there  is  more  to  come.  Perhaps  the  "  historical  claim  " 
for  which  the  sons  of  our  country  have  to  bleed  to-day  may  not 
have  been  established  till  later. 

Christian  IV.  mixed  himself  up  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and 
the  Imperialists  and  Swedes  invaded  the  duchies.  Now  was 
made  (at  Copenhagen,  1658)  another  treaty,  by  which  the  lord- 
ship over  the  Schleswig  portion  was  secured  to  the  house  of 
Holstein  Gottorp,  and  so  at  last  we  have  got  done  with  the 
Danish  feudal  lordship.  Done  with  it  for  ever.  Thank  God. 
Now  I  find  myself  again  all  right. 

But  what  happened  by  the  Patent  of  22nd  August,  1721  ? 
Simply  this :  the  Gottorps'  dominion  of  Schleswig  was  incorpo 


l$S  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

rated  into  the  kingdom  of  Denmark.  In  January,  1773,  Hoi 
stein  also  was  ceded  to  the  royal  house  of  Denmark ;  the  whole 
ranked  now  as  a  Danish  province. 

That  changes  the  affair,  the  Danes  are  in  the  right 

Yet  not  entirely  so.  The  Congress  of  Vienna,  in  181 5, 
declares  Holstein  to  be  a  part  of  the  German  Bund.  This, 
however,  vexes  the  Danes.  They  invent  the  cry  :  "  Denmark 
up  to  the  Eider,**  and  struggle  for  the  complete  possession  of 
Schleswig — called  by  them  "  South  Jutland,"  against  which  the 
"  hereditary  right  of  Augustenburg  *'  was  employed  as  a  watch- 
word and  used  in  German  national  proclamations.  In  the  year 
1846  King  Christian  writes  a  public  letter  in  which  he  proposes 
the  integrity  of  the  entire  state  as  his  object,  and  against  this 
"  the  German  countries  "  protest.  Two  years  later  the  complete 
union  is  announced  from  the  Throne,  no  longer  as  an  object, 
but  as  a  faii  accompli,  and  then  the  uprising  occurs  in  the 
"  German  countries  ".  And  now  the  fighting  begins.  At  first 
the  Danes  gain  the  victory  in  one  fight,  next  the  Schleswig- 
Holsteiners  in  a  second.  Then  the  German  Bund  intervenes. 
The  Prussians  "  occupy  "  the  heights  of  Diippel,  but  that  does 
not  terminate  the  strife.  Prussia  and  Denmark  make  peace. 
Schleswig-Holstein  has  now  to  fight  the  Danes  single-handed, 
and  is  struck  down  at  Idstedt. 

The  Bund  now  calls  on  the  "  revolters  "  to  discontinue  the 
war,  which  they  proceed  to  do.  Austrian  troops  take  possession 
of  Holstein,  and  the  two  duchies  are  separated.  So  what  has 
become  of  the  paper-stipulation  "  to  be  for  ever  united  "  ? 

Still  the  situation  is  not  made  completely  secure.  Now  I 
find  a  Protocol  of  London,  8th  May,  1852  (it  is  a  good  thing  that 
we  always  know  so  exactly  the  date  when  these  fragile  treaties 
are  made),  which  secures  the  succession  of  Schleswig  to  Prince 
Christian  of  Gliicksburg  ("  secures  "  is  good).  And  now  I  know 
at  any  rate  the  origin  of  the  name  "  Protocol-Prince  ". 

In  the  year  1854,  after  each  duchy  had  received  a  constitu 
tion  of  its  own,  both  were  "  Danised  '*.  But  in  1858  the  Dani- 
satkm  of  Holstein  had  to  be  revoked  again.     And  now  this 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS.  I39 

historical  sketch  is  coming  quite  close  to  the  present  time  ;  and 
yet  it  is  not  so  clear  to  me  to  whom  the  two  countries  "  rightly 
belong,'*  or  what  was  the  precise  cause  of  the  outbreak  of  the 
present  war. 

On  1 8th  November,  1858,  the  famous  "  Fundamental  law  for 
the  mutual  relations  between  Denmark  and  Schleswig"  was 
passed  by  the  Reichsrath.  Two  days  afterwards  the  king 
died.  With  him  again  was  extinguished  a .  family — that  of 
Holstein-Gluckstadt — and  when  the  successor  of  the  monarch 
presented  himself  on  the  scene,  in  reliance  on  the  two-days-old 
law,  Frederick  of  Augustenburg  (a  family  I  had  nearly  for- 
gotten) raised  his  claim,  and  together  with  his  nobility  turned 
for  support  to  the  German  Bund. 

The  latter  at  once  occupied  Holstein  with  Saxon  and  Hano- 
verian troops,  and  proclaimed  Augustenburg  duke.  Why  ? 
But  Prussia  and  Austria  were  not  of  accord  in  this  proceeding. 
Why  ?    That  I  do  not  to  this  day  understand. 

It  is  said  the  London  Protocol  had  to  be  respected.  Why  ? 
Are  these  Protocols  about  things  which  concern  us  absolutely 
nothing  so  exceedingly  to  be  respected,  that  we  must  defend 
them  at  the  price  of  the  blood  of  our  own  sons  ?  If  so,  there 
must  lie  in  the  background  some  mysterious  "  reason  of  state  " 
for  it  It  must  be  firmly  held  as  a  dogma  that  what  the  gentle- 
men round  the  green  table  of  diplomacy  may  decide  is  the 
highest  wisdom,  and  has  for  its  aim  the  greatest  possible  advance 
of  the  power  of  one's  country.  The  London  Protocol  of  8th 
May,  1852,  had  to  be  maintained  intact ;  but  the  Fundamental 
Law  of  Copenhagen,  of  13th  January,  1863,  had  to  be  abolished, 
and  that  within  twenty-four  hours.  On  that  hung  Austria's  honour 
and  welfare.  The  dogma  was  a  little  hard  to  believe,  but  in 
political  matters,  almost  more  willingly  than  in  religious,  the 
masses  allow  themselves  to  be  led  by  the  principle  of  the  '*  quia 
absurdum  " — they  have  renounced  beforehand  the  attempt  to 
reason  and  understand.  When  the  sword  is  once  drawn  nothing 
more  is  necessary  than  to  shout  "  Hurrah,"  and  press  hotly  on 
to  victory.    Besides  that,  all  that  is  necessary  is  to  invoke  the 


140  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

blessing  of  heaven  on  the  war.  For  so  much  is  certain,  that  it 
must  be  the  business  of  the  Almighty  to  see  that  the  Protocol 
of  the  8th  May  is  maintained,  and  the  Law  of  5th  November 
repealed.  He  must  conduct  the  matter  so  that  the  precise 
number  of  men  bleed  to  death  and  villages  are  set  on  fire,  that 
are  necessary  in  order  that  the  family  of  Gliickstadt,  or  that  of 
August  ^nburg  should  rule  over  a  particular  spot  of  earth. 
What  fi  foolish  world — still  in  leading  strings — cruel,  unthink- 
ing !    Hmh  was  the  result  of  my  historical  studies. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

The  course  of  the  Danish  war, — Suspension  of  hostilities,-^  Waf 

renewed. — My  husband  ordered  off  just  on  the  eve  of  my 
confinement. — The  parting. — My  confinement  occurs  simul- 
taneously with  my  husband's  departure. — A  dead  child. — 
The  mother  in  deadly  peril. — Frederick's  letters  from  the 
seat  of  war. — Cousin  Godfrey  and  the  alliance  between 
Austria  and  Prussia. — My  recovery, — Anxiety  and  relapse, 
— Return  of  my  husband. 

From  the  theatre  of  war  came  good  tidings.  The  alh'es  won 
battle  after  battle.  Immediately  after  the  first  combats  the 
Danes  were  forced  to  abandon  the  entire  Danewerk.  Schles- 
wig  and  Jutland  up  to  Limfjord  were  occupied  by  our  troops, 
and  the  enemy  only  maintained  himself  in  the  lines  at  Diippel 
and  at  Alsen. 

I  knew  all  this  so- accurately,  because  on  the  tables  were 
again  laid  the  maps  stuck  about  with  pins  on  which  were  marked 
the  movements  and  positions  of  the  troops  as  each  despatch 
arrived.  "  If  we  could  now  only  take  the  lines  at  Dijppel,  or  if 
we  could  even  conquer  Alsen,"  said  the  citizens  of  Olmiitz  (for 
no  one  is  so  fond  of  speaking  of  deeds  of  war  with  the  "  we  "  as 
those  who  were  never  present  at  them),  "  then  we  should  be  at  an 
end  of  it.  Now  our  Austrians  are  showing  again  what  they  can 
do.  The  brave  Prussians  too  are  fighting  splendidly.  Both 
together  are. of  course  invincible.  The  end  will  be  that  all 
Denmark  will  be  overrun  and  will  be  annexed  to  the  German 
Bund — a  glorious,  beneficent  war." 

I  too  wiihed  for  nothing  so  anxiously  as  the  storming  of 

('4») 


14a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Dnppel — the  sooner,  the  better — for  this  action  would  at  any 
rate  be  decisive  and  put  an  end  to  the  butchery.  Put  an  end 
to  it,  I  hoped,  before  Frederick's  regiment  got  marching  orders. 

Oh,  this  Damocles'  sword  !  Every  day  when  I  woke  the  fear 
came  on  me  that  the  news  would  be  brought  "We  are  to  march". 
Frederick  was  calm  about  it.  He  did  not  wish  it,  but  saw  it 
coming. 

"Accustom  yourself,  dear,  to  the  thought  of  it,"  he  said  to 
me.  "  Against  inexorable  necessity  no  striving  is  of  any  avail. 
I  do  not  believe  that  even  if  Dtippel  falls  the  war  will  thereby 
terminate.  The  allied  army  which  has  been  despatched  is  far 
too  small  to  force  the  Danes  to  a  conclusion;  we  shall  be 
obliged  to  send  considerable  reinforcements  besides,  and  then 
my  regiment  will  not  be  spared." 

In  fact,  this  campaign  had  lasted  more  than  two  months,  and 
yet  no  result.  If  the  cruel  game  could  have  been  settled  in  one 
fight  like  a  duel !  But  no ;  if  one  battle  is  lost,  another  is 
offered ;  if  one  position  has  to  be  given  up,  another  is  taken, 
and  so  on  till  one  or  the  other  army  is  annihilated,  or  both  are 
exhausted. 

At  last,  on  14th  April,  the  lines  of  Diippel  were  stormed. 

The  news  was  received  with  such  a  shout  of  joy  as  if  the 
recovered  paradise  had  lain  behind  these  lines.  People  em- 
braced each  other  in  the  streets.  "  Don't  you  know  ?  Diippel 
— Oh,  our  brave  army  1  An  unheard-of  exploit.  Now  let  all 
join  in  thanking  God  ! "  And  there  was  singing  of  Te  Deums 
in  all  the  churches,  and  among  the  military  choirmasters  an 
industrious  composition  of  "The  Lines  of  Diippel  March,' 
"  Storm  of  Dtippel  Galop,"  and  so  forth. 

My  husband's  comrades  and  their  wives  had,  it  is  true,  a 
drop  of  bitterness  in  their  cup  of  joy,  not  to  have  been  there, 
to  have  been  obliged  to  miss  such  a  triumph ;  what  bad  luck ! 

This  victory  gave  me  one  great  joy,  for  immediately  after  it 
a  peace  conference  assembled  in  London  and  occasioned  a 
suspension  of  hostilities.  What  a  recovery  of  free  breath  even 
that  word  "  suspension  of  hostilities  "  caused. 


L4T  DOWN   YOUR  ARIft.  143 

How  the  world  would  at  last  breathe  again,  thought  T  then  for 
the  first  time,  if  on  all  hands  could  be  heard :  "  Lay  down  your 
arms,"  down  with  them  for  ever  I  I  put  the  words  into  my  red 
book,  but  beside  them  I  wrote  despondingly  in  brackets  "Utopia". 

That  the  London  Congress  would  make  an  end  of  the 
Schleswig-Holstein  War  I  made  no  doubt  at  all.  The  allies 
had  won,  the  lines  of  Diippel  were  carried,  these  lines  had 
played  so  great  a  part  in  recent  tinies  that  their  capture  seemed 
to  me  to  be  finally  decisive:  how  could  Denmark  hold  out 
longer  ?  The  negotiations  dragged  on  for  an  incredible  length 
of  time.  This  would  have  been  torture  to  me  if  I  had  not  from 
the  very  beginning  had  the  conviction  that  their  result  must  be 
peaceful.  If  the  plenipotentiaries  of  great  states,  who  therefore 
must  be  reasonable,  well-meaning  persons,  unite  together  to 
attain  so  desirable  an  end  as  the  conclusion  of  peace,  how 
could  it  fail  ?  So  much  the  more  horribly  was  I  undeceived 
when  after  debates  continued  for  two  months  the  news  came 
that  the  congress  had  dissolved  without  accomplishing  anything. 

And  two  days  later  came  marching  orders  for  Frederick ! 

For  preparations  and  for  leave-taking  he  had  twenty-four 
hours  given  him.  And  I  was  on  the  point  of  my  confinement. 
In  the  heavy  death-menacing  hours,  when  a  woman's  only 
comfort  lies  in  having  her  dear  husband  by  her,  I  had  to 
remain  alone,  alone  with  that  consciousness  awful  beyond  every- 
thing that  this  dear  husband  was  gone  to  the  war — knowing  too 
that  it  must  be  just  as  painful  to  him  to  leave  his  poor  wife  at 
such  a  moment  as  it  would  be  painful  to  me  to  be  without  him. 

It  was  in  the  morning  of  20th  June.  All  the  details  of  this 
memorable  day  remain  impressed  on  my  memory.  Oppressive 
heat  prevailed  outside,  and  to  shut  this  out  the  Venetian  blinds 
had  been  let  down  in  my  room.  Covered  with  light,  loose 
clothing,  I  was  lying  exhausted  on  the  sofa.  I  had  passed  an 
almost  sleepless  night,  and  had  now  shut  my  eyes  in  a  dreamy 
half-doze.  Near  me  on  my  table  was  standing  a  vase  with 
some  powerfully  smelling  roses.  Through  the  open  window 
the  sound  of  a  distant  exercise  in  trumpet  playing  came  in. 


144  ^^^   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Everything  was  provocative  of  slumber,  yet  consciousness  had 
not  quite  left  me.  Only  one  half  of  it — I  mean  that  of  care — 
had  departed.  I  had  forgotten  the  danger  of  war  and  the  danger 
that  stood  before  myself.  I  knew  only  that  I  was  alive — that  the 
roses,  along  with  the  rhythm  of  the  reveillk  which  the  trumpeter 
was  playing,  were  giving  out  sweet  soothing  influences — that  my 
beloved  husband  might  come  in  at  any  minute,  and  if  he  saw 
me  asleep  would  only  tread  in  the  lightest  manner  so  as  not  to 
awaken  me.  I  was  right ;  next  minute  the  door  opposite  to 
me  opened.  Without  raising  my  lids  I  could  see  through  a 
tiny  cleft  between  the  eyelashes  that  it  was  he  whom  I  was 
expecting.  I  made  no  attempt  to  rouse  myself  from  my  half- 
slumber,  for  by  doing  so  I  might  chase  away  the  whole  picture ; 
for  it  might  be  that  the  appearance  at  the  door  was  only  the 
continuation  of  a  dream,  and  it  might  be  that  I  was  only 
dreaming  that  I  had  opened  my  eyelids  evei  so  little.  So  now 
I  shut  them  entirely  and  took  pains  to  continue  the  dream — 
that  the  dear  one  came  closer,  that  he  bent  over  me  and  kissed 
my  forehead. 

And  so  indeed  it  was.  Then  he  knelt  down  by  my  couch 
and  remained  motionless  for  a  while.  The  roses  were  still 
breathing  and  the  distant  horn  playing  its  tra-ra-ra. 

"  Martha,  are  you  asleep  ?  "  I  heard  him  ask  softly. 

Then  I  opened  my  eyes. 

"For  God's  sake,  what  is  it?"  I  cried  out,  frightened  to 
death,  for  the  countenance  of  my  husband  as  he  knelt  by  me 
was  so  deeply  overclouded  by  sorrow  that  I  guessed  at  once 
that  some  misfortune  had  happened.  Instead  of  replying  he 
laid  his  head  on  my  breast. 

I  understood  all.  He  had  to  go.  I  had  thrown  my  arm 
round  his  neck,  and  we  remained  both  in  the  same  position  foi 
some  time  without  speaking. 

"When?"  I  asked  at  length. 

"  Early  to-morrow  morning." 

"Oh,  my  God!  my  God!" 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  poor  Martha." 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I45 

**  No,  no,  let  me  weep.  My  misfortune  is  too  great,  and  I 
know — I  see  it  in  your  face — so  is  yours.  Never  did  I  see  so 
much  pain  in  any  human  face  as  I  have  just  read  in  your 
features." 

"  Yes,  my  wife.  I  am  unfortunate  to  have  to  leave  you  in 
such  a  moment ** 

*'  Frederick,  Frederick;  we  shall  never  see  each  other  again. 
I  shall  die " 

"  Or  I  shall  fall.  Yes,  I  believe  it,  too ;  we  shall  never  see 
each  other  again  !  ** 

It  was  a  heart-breaking  parting  that  occupied  these  last 
twenty-four  hours.  This  was  now  the  second  time  in  my  life 
that  I  had  seen  a  dear  husband  depart  to  the  war.  But  this 
second  tearing  ourselves  apart  was  incomparably  worse  than 
the  first.  Then  my  way  of  taking  it  and  still  more  Arno's  was 
quite  different  and  more  primitive.  I  looked  on  the  departure 
as  a  natural  necessity  which  overbalanced  all  personal  feelings, 
and  he  looked  at  it  even  as  a  joyous  expedition  in  search  of 
glory.  He  went  with  cheerfulness.  I  remained  without  a  murmur. 
There  still  clung  to  me  something  of  the  admiration  for  war 
which  I  had  imbibed  from  my  youthful  education.  I  still 
shared  to  some  extent  with  the  departing  soldier  in  the  pride 
which  he  visibly  felt  m  the  ** great  emprise".  But  now  I 
knew  that  he  who  was  going  went  to  the  work  of  death  with 
horror  rather  than  with  exultation,  I  knew  that  he  loved  the 
life  which  he  had  to  set  on  the  hazard — that  to  him  one  thing 
was  dearer  than  everything,  yes,  everything,  even  the  claims  of 
the  Augustenburgs — his  wife — his  wife  who  in  a  few  days  was 
to  be  a  mother.  Whilst  in  Arno's  case  I  had  the  conviction 
that  he  departed  with  feelings  for  which  he  was  surely  to  be 
envied,  I  discerned  that  in  this  second  separation  both  of 
us  were  deserving  of  equal  pity.  Yes,  we  suffered  in  equal 
measure,  and  we  confessed  it  and  bewailed  it  to  each  other. 
No  hypocrisies,  no  empty  phrases  of  consolation,  no  swagger ;  we 
were  one  in  all  things,  and  neither  sought  to  deceive  the  other. 
It  was  still  our  best  consolation  that  each  could  fully  under- 

10 


146  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Stand  the  other's  inconsolability.  We  did  not  seek  to  concea 
the  magnitude  of  the  misfortune  that  had  burst  on  us  by  any 
conventional  cloaks  or  masks  of  patriotism  or  heroism.  No, 
the  prospect  of  being  allowed  to  shoot  and  hack  at  the  Danes 
was  to  him  no  compensation  for  the  anguish  of  having  to  leave 
me — on  the  contrary,  rather  an  aggravation — for  killing  and 
destroying  is  repulsive  to  every  "  noble  man  ".  And  to  me  it 
was  no  recompense — absolutely  none — for  my  suffering  to 
think  that  my  dear  one  might  perhaps  gain  a  step  in  rank. 
And  should  the  misfortune  of  this  perilous  separation  rise  to 
the  still  greater  misfortune  of  parting  for  ever — should  Frederick 
fall — the  reasons  of  state  on  account  of  which  this  war  had  to 
be  waged  were  not  in  the  faintest  degree  elevated  or  holy 
enough  to  my  mind  to  balance  such  a  sacrifice.  "  Defender 
of  his  Country,"  that  is  the  fair-sounding  title  with  which  the 
soldier  is  decorated.  And  in  fact  what  nobler  duty  can  there 
be  for  the  members  of  a  commonwealth  than  to  defend  their 
state  when  menaced?  But  then  why  does  his  military  oath 
bind  the  soldier  to  a  hundred  other  warlike  duties,  besides  the 
defensive  ?  Why  is  he  obliged  to  go  and  attack  ?  Why  must 
he,  in  cases  where  there  is  not  the  slightest  menace  of  any 
invasion  of  his  country,  hazard  the  same  possessions — his  life 
and  his  hearth — in  the  quarrels  of  certain  foreign  princes  for 
territory  or  ambition,  as  if  it  were  a  question,  as  it  surely  ought 
to  be  to  justify  war,  of  the  defence  of  endangered  life  and 
hearth  ?  Why,  for  example,  in  the  present  instance,  must  the 
Austrian  army  march  out  to  set  the  Augustenburgs  on  a 
foreign  throne?  Why?  Why?  The  question  is  one  which 
to  address  to  an  emperor  or  pope  is  in  itself  treasonable  and 
blasphemous,  which  in  the  latter  case  passes  for  irreligion  and 
in  the  former  for  want  of  loyalty,  and  which  never  deserves 
an  answer. 

The  regiment  was  to  march  at  10  a.m.  We  stayed  up  the 
whole  night.  Not  a  minute  of  the  time  still  left  to  us  to  spend 
together  would  we  lose. 

There  was  so  much  that  we  had  still  to  say  to  each  other,  and 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I47 

fet  we  spoke  little.  It  was  mainly  kisses  and  tears,  which  said 
more  plainly  than  any  words :  "  I  love  you,  and  I  have  to  leave 
you  ".  From  time  to  time  there  dropped  in  a  hopeful  word, 
"When  you  come  back  again'*.  It  was  certainly  possible. 
Surely  there  are  so  many  that  come  back  ;  yet  it  was  strange  I 
repeated  "When  you  come  back  "  and  tried  to  put  before  myself 
the  delights  of  this  event ;  but  in  vain.  My  imagination  could 
form  no  other  picture  than  that  of  my  husband's  corpse  on  the 
field  of  battle,  or  myself  on  the  bier,  with  a  dead  child  in  my 
arms. 

Frederick  was  filled  with  similar  gloomy  forebodings,  for  his 
'*  When  I  come  back  '*  did  not  sound  natural ;  and  more  often 
he  spoke  of  what  might  happen,  "  If  I  should  fall  ". 

**  Do  not  marry  a  third  time,  Martha  I  Do  not  wash  out, 
by  the  impressions  of  a  new  love,  the  recollections  of  this 
glorious  year  !     Has  it  not  been  a  happy  time  ?  " 

We  now  recalled  a  hundred  little  details  which  had  impressed 
themselves  on  our  minds,  from  our  first  meeting  to  the  present 
hour,  and  passed  them  through  our  remembrance. 

"  And  my  little  one,  my  poor  little  one,  whom  perhaps  I  may 
never  press  to  my  heart,  what  is  its  name  to  be  ?  '* 

"  Frederick  or  Frederica." 

"  No  ;  Martha  is  prettier.  If  it  is  a  girl  call  it  by  the  name 
which  its  dying  father  at  the  last  moment " 

"  Frederick,  why  do  you  talk  always  about  dying  ?  If  you 
come  back " 

**  Ah  !  if  t "  he  repeated  with  a  sigh. 

As  the  day  was  beginning  to  dawn,  my  eyes,  weary  with 
weeping,  closed,  a  light  slumber  fell  on  both  of  us.  We  lay 
there  with  our  arms  linked  together,  but  without  losing  the 
consciousness  that  this  was  our  parting  hour. 

Suddenly  I  started  up  and  broke  out  into  loud  groans. 
Frederick  got  up  at  once. 

**  In  God's  name,  Martha,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  7 
It  is  not  yet  come  ?    Oh  speak  I     Is  it " 

I  nodded  affirmatively. 


143  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

Was  it  a  cry,  or  a  curse,  or  an  ejaculation  of  prayer,  that 
escaped  his  lips  ?    He  clutched  the  bell  and  gave  the  alarm. 

"  Run  at  once  for  the  doctor — for  the  nurse,"  he  shouted 
to  the  maid  who  had  hurried  in.  Then  he  threw  himself 
down  on  his  knees  beside  me,  and  kissed  my  hand  as  it 
hung  down. 

"  My  wife  !  my  all !  and  now,  now  I  have  to  go." 

I  could  not  speak.  The  most  violent  physical  pain  that 
one  can  conceive  was  racking  and  wringing  my  body ;  and 
besides  this,  the  agony  of  my  soul  was  yet  more  horrible, 
that  he  "  had  to  go  now,  now  " ;  and  that  he  was  so  wretched 
about  it.  Those  who  had  been  summoned  came  quickly, 
and  at  once  made  themselves  busy  about  me.  At  the  same 
time  Frederick  had  to  make  his  last  preparations  for  the 
march.  After  he  had  done  this;  "Doctor,  doctor,**  he 
cried,  seizing  the  physician  by  both  hands,  "you  promise 
me,  do  you  not,  that  you  will  bring  her  through  ?  And 
you  will  telegraph  to  me  to-day,  and  afterwards  there  and 
there,**  naming  the  stations  which  he  had  to  pass  on  the 

march.     "  And  if  there  is  any  danger Ah  !  but  what 

good  is  it  ?  *'  he  interrupted  himself.  "  If  even  the  danger  were 
ever  so  great,  could  I  come  back  then  ?  '* 

**  It  is  hard,  baron,"  the  physician  replied ;  "  but  do  not  be 
too  anxious,  the  patient  is  young  and  strong.  This  evening 
it  will  be  all  over,  and  you  will  receive  a  tranquillising  des- 
patch." 

**  Oh  yes  I  You  mean  to  send  good  news  in  any  case,  be- 
cause the  opposite  would  do  no  good  1  But  I  wi//  have  the 
truth  !  Listen,  doctor  !  I  must  have  your  most  sacred  word 
of  honour  on  it.  The  w/io/e  truth.  Only  on  this  condition 
could  a  tranquillising  account  really  give  me  tranquillity.  Other- 
wise I  should  think  it  all  a  lie.     So  swear  to  do  this.** 

The  physician  gave  the  promise  required. 

"O  my  poor,  poor  husband*' — the  thought  cut  me  to  the 
soul — "even  if  you  receive  the  news  to-day  that  your 
Martha  is  lying  on  her  deathbed^  you  cannot  turn  back  to 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  1 49 

close  her  eyes  I  You  have  something  more  important  on 
hand — the  claims  of  the  Augustenburgs  to  a  throne." 

"  Frederick  !  "  I  cried  out  loud. 

He  flew  to  my  side.  At  this  moment  the  clock  struck. 
He  had  now  only  a  minute  or  two.  But  we  were  cheated 
out  of  even  this  last  respite,  for  another  attack  seized  me, 
and  instead  of  the  words  of  adieu,  I  could  only  utter  groans 
of  anguish. 

*'  Go,  baron — finish  this  scene,"  said  the  physician,  "  for  the 
patient  such  excitement  is  dangerous." 

One  more  kiss,  and  he  rushed  out.  My  cries  and  the  doctor's 
last  word,  "  dangerous,"  gave  him  his  dismissal. 

In  what  frame  of  mind  must  he  have  been  when  he  de- 
parted ?  The  local  newspapers  of  Olmiitz  gave  this  report  next 
day: — 

"  Yesterday  the  — th  Regiment  left  our  town  with  music 
playing  and  banners  waving,  to  gain  fresh  laurels  for  themselves 
in  the  sea-surrounded  brotherland.  Cheerful  courage  filled  the 
ranks ;  one  could  see  the  joy  of  battle  glowing  in  the  men's 
eyes "  and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

Frederick  had  already  telegraphed  to  Aunt  Mary  before  his 
departure  that  I  was  in  want  of  her  help,"  and  she  came  a 
few  hours  later  to  me.  She  found  me  senseless  and  in  great 
danger. 

For  several  weeks  I  hovered  between  life  and  death.  My 
child  died  the  day  of  its  birth.  The  mental  pain,  which  parting 
from  my  beloved  husband  had  caused  me,  just  at  the  time  when 
I  wanted  all  my  strength  to  master  the  bodily  pain,  had  rendered 
me  incapable  of  bearing  up  against  it,  and  I  was  near  suc- 
cumbing altogether. 

The  physician  was  obliged  by  his  plighted  word  to  send  my 
poor  husband  the  sorrowful  news  that  the  child  was  dead,  and 
the  mother  in  danger  of  death. 

As  to  the  news  which  came  from  him,  they  could  not  be 
communicated  to  me.  I  knew  no  one  and  was  deHrious  day 
and  night     A  strange  delirium.     I  brought  back  with  me  a 


150  LAY   DOMTN   YOUR  ARMS. 

feeble  reminiscence  of  it  into  the  period  of  recovered  conscious- 
ness, but  to  reproduce  this  in  reasonable  words  would  be 
impossible  for  me.  In  the  abnormal  whirl  of  the  fevered  brain, 
conceptions  and  images  form  themselves  for  which  there  is  no 
expression  in  language  suitable  to  our  normal  thoughts.  Only 
so  much  can  I  set  down — and  I  have  attempted  to  fix  the 
fantastic  sketch  in  the  red  volumes — that  I  confused  the  two 
events — the  war  and  my  confinement — together.  I  fancied 
that  cannon  and  naked  weapons  (I  distinctly  felt  the  bayonet 
thrusts)  were  the  instruments  of  delivery,  and  that  I  was  lying 
there  the  prize  of  contention  between  two  armies  rushing  on 
each  other.  That  my  husband  had  marched  out  I  knew,  but 
I  saw  him  still  in  the  form  of  the  dead  Arno,  while  by  my  side 
Frederick  dressed  as  a  sick  nurse  was  stroking  the  silver  stork. 
Every  moment  I  was  awaiting  the  bursting  shell  which  was  to 
shatter  us  all  three — Arno,  Frederick,  and  me — to  pieces,  in 
order  that  the  child  could  come  into  the  world,  who  was 
destined  to  rule  over  "  Denstein,  Schlesmark,  and  Hoi  wig.*'.  .  . 
And  all  this  gave  me  such  unspeakable  pain  and  was  so  un- 
necessary. .  .  .  There  must,  however,  be  some  one  somewhere 
who  could  change  it  and  remove  it  all,  who  could  lift  off  thif 
mountain  from  my  heart  and  that  of  all  humanity  by  some 
word  of  power;  and  I  was  devoured  with  a  longing  to  cast 
myself  at  this  somebody's  feet  and  pray  to  him  :  **  Help  us  !  for 
the  sake  of  mercy  and  justice  help  us  !  Lay  down  your  arms  ! 
down  !  *'  With  this  cry  on  my  lips  I  woke  one  day  to  conscious- 
ness. My  father  and  Aunt  Mary  were  standing  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed,  and  the  former  said  to  me  to  hush  me : — 
"  Yes,  yes,  child,  be  quiet  All  arms  down." 
This  recovery  of  the  sense  of  personality  after  a  long  sus- 
pension of  the  intellect  is  certainly  a  strange  thing.  First  the 
joyful  astonished  discovery  that  one  is  alive,  and  then  the 
anxious  questioning  with  oneself  who  one  really  is  .  .  • 

But  the  sudden  answer  to  that  question,  which  burst  in  with 
full  light  upon  me,  changed  the  just  awakened  pleasure  of 
existence  into  violent  pain.      I  was  the  sick  Martha  Tilling, 


LAY   DOWN   TOUR  ARMS.  I5I 

whose  new-born  child  was  dead,  and  whose  husband  was  gone 
to  battle.  .  .  .  How  long  ago  ?    That  I  knew  not. 

"Is  he  alive? — have  you  letters  there? — messages?*'  were  my 
first  questions.  Yes ;  there  was  quite  a  little  heap  of  letters 
and  telegrams  piled  up  which  had  come  during  my  illness. 
Most  of  them  were  merely  inquiries  after  my  condition,  requests 
for  daily,  and  as  far  as  possible,  hourly  information.  This,  of 
course,  was  so  long  as  the  writer  was  at  places  where  the  tele- 
graph could  reach  him. 

I  was  not  permitted  to  read  Frederick's  letters  at  once  ;  they 
thought  it  would  excite  me  too  much  and  disturb  me ;  and  now 
that  I  was  hardly  awake  out  of  my  delirium  I  must,  before  all 
things,  have  repose.  They  could  tell  me  as  much  as  this : 
"  Frederick  was  unhurt  up  to  the  present  time  '*.  He  had 
already  been  through  several  successful  engagements.  The 
war  must  now  soon  be  over.  The  enemy  maintained  themselves 
at  Alsen  only  ;  and  if  this  position  once  were  taken  our  troops 
would  return,  crowned  with  glory.  This  was  what  my  father 
said  for  my  comfort,  and  Aunt  Mary  gave  me  the  history  of 
my  illness.  Several  weeks  had  now  passed  since  her  arrival, 
which  was  the  very  day  on  which  Frederick  departed,  and  my 
child  was  bom  and  died.  Of  that  I  had  preserved  a  recollec- 
tion, but  what  passed  in  the  interval — my  father's  arrival — the 
news  that  had  come  from  Frederick — the  course  of  my  illness — 
of  all  that  I  knew  nothing.  Now  I  heard  for  the  first  time 
that  my  condition  had  become  so  much  worse  that  the  medical 
men  had  quite  given  me  up,  and  my  father  had  been  called  to 
see  me  "for  the  last  time".  The  bad  news  must  certainly 
have  been  sent  to  Frederick ;  but  the  better  news  also — for 
the  doctors  had  given  hope  again  some  days  ago— must  by  this 
time  have  reached  him. 

"  If  he  himself  is  still  alive,"  I  struck  in,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Do  not  commit  a  sin,  Martha,"  my  aunt  admonished  me  ; 
"the  good  God  and  His  saints  would  not  have  preserved  you,  in 
answer  to  our  prayers,  in  order  afterwards  to  send  such  a  visi- 
tation upon  you.    Your  husband  also  will  be  preserved  to  you, 


15a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

for  whom  I — you  may  believe  me  when  I  say  so — have  prayed 
as  fervently  as  for  you.  I  have  even  sent  him  a  scapulary. 
Oh  yes  !  Do  not  shrug  your  shoulders  ;  you  have  no  trust  in 
such  things,  but  they  can  do  no  harm  anyhow,  can  they  ?  And 
how  many  proofs  there  are  of  their  good  effect !  You  your, 
self  are  again  another  proof  what  efifect  the  intervention  of  the 
saints  has  ;  for  you  were,  believe  me,  on  the  edge  of  the  grave, 
when  I  addressed  myself  to  your  patron  and  protectress,  St. 
Martha " 

"And  I,"  interrupted  my  father,  who  was  very  clerical 
indeed  in  his  politics,  but  in  the  practical  way  did  not  at  all 
sympathise  with  his  sister,  "  I  wrote  to  Vienna  for  Dr.  Braun, 
and  he  saved  your  life." 

Next  day,  on  my  urgent  prayer,  I  was  permitted  to  read 
through  all  the  messages  that  had  come  from  Frederick.  Mostly 
they  were  only  questions  in  a  single  line,  or  news  equally  laconic. 
"  An  engagement  yesterday.      I  am   unhurt."      '*  We   march 

again  to-day.     Send  messages  to "     A  longer  letter  bore 

this  direction  on  the  envelope :  "  To  be  delivered  only  if  all 
danger  is  over  ".     This  I  read  last : — 

"  My  all  1  Will  you  ever  read  this  ?  The  last  news  which 
reached  me  from  your  physician  ran :  *  Patient  in  high  fever ; 
condition  grave  '.  *  Grave  ! '  He  used  the  expression  perhaps 
out  of  consideration,  so  as  not  to  say  *  Hopeless  *.  If  you  have 
this  put  into  your  hands  you  will  know  by  that  that  you  have 
escaped  the  danger  ;  but  you  may  think,  in  addition,  what  my 
feelings  were,  as,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle,  I  pictured  to  myself 
that  my  adored  wife  was  lying  on  her  deathbed ;  that  she  was 
calling  for  me,  stretching  out  her  arms  for  me.  We  did  not 
even  say  any  regular  adieu  to  each  other ;  and  our  child,  about 
whom  I  had  had  such  joy,  dead  !  And  to-morrow,  I  myself— 
suppose  a  bullet  find  me  ?  If  I  knew  beforehand  that  you  were 
no  more,  the  mortal  shot  would  be  the  dearest  thing  to  me  ; 
but  if  you  are  preserved — no  !  then  I  do  not  wish  to  know  any- 
thing more  of  death.  The  *  joy  of  dying,*  that  unnatural  feeling 
which  the  field  preachers  are  always  pressing  on  us,  is  one  no 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  153 

happy  man  can  know ;  and  if  you  are  alive,  and  I  reach  home, 
I  have  still  untold  treasures  of  bliss  to  gather.  Oh,  the  joy  of 
living  with  which  we  two  will  enjoy  the  future,  if  any  such  is  to 
be  our  lot. 

"  To-day  we  met  the  enemy  for  the  first  time.  Up  to  that 
our  way  had  been  through  conquered  territory,  from  which  the 
Danes  had  retreated.  Smoking  ruins  of  villages,  ravaged  corn- 
fields, weapons  and  knapsacks  lying  about,  spots  where  the  land 
was  ploughed  up  by  the  shells,  blood  stains,  bodies  of  horses, 
trenches  filled  with  the  slain — such  are  the  features  of  the 
scenes  through  which  we  have  been  moving  in  the  rear  of  the 
victors,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  add  more  victories  to  the 
account — Z.^.,  to  burn  more  villages,  and  so  forth.  .  .  .  And 
that  we  have  done  to-day.  We  have  carried  the  position.  Be- 
hind us  lies  a  village  in  flames.  The  inhabitants  had  the  good 
luck  to  have  quitted  it  beforehand  ;  but  in  the  stable  a  horse 
had  been  forgotten.  I  heard  the  beast  in  despair  stamping 
and  shrieking.  Do  you  know  what  I  did  ?  It  will  procure 
me  no  decoration  most  certainly  ;  for,  instead  of  bringing 
down  a  Dane  or  two,  I  rushed  to  the  stable  to  set  the  poor 
horse  free.  Impossible ;  the  manger  had  already  caught  fire, 
then  the  straw  under  his  hoofs,  then  his  mane.  So  I  put  two 
revolver  bullets  through  his  head.  He  fell  down  dead,  and 
was  saved  from  the  pain  of  being  burned  to  death.  Then, 
back  into  the  fight,  the  deathly  smell  of  the  powder,  the 
wild  alarm  of  the  whistling  bullets,  falling  buildings,  savage 
war-cries.  Most  of  those  around  me,  friends  and  foes,  were,  it 
is  true,  seized  by  the  delirium  of  battle ;  but  I  remained  in 
unblessed  sobriety.  I  could  not  get  myself  up  to  hate  the 
Danes.  They  are  brave  men,  and  what  did  they  do  but  their 
duty  in  attacking  us  ?  My  thoughts  were  with  you,  Martha  ! 
I  saw  you  laid  out  on  your  bier,  and  what  I  wished  for  myself 
was  that  the  bullet  might  strike  me.  But  at  intervals,  never- 
theless, a  ray  of  longing  and  of  hope  would  shine  again. 
'  What  if  she  is  alive  ?    What  if  I  should  get  home  again  ?  * 

**  The  butchery  lasted  more  than  two  hours^  and  we  remained 


154  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARlfS. 

as  I  said,  in  possession  of  the  field.     The  routed  enemy  fled 
We  did  not  pursue.     We  had  work  enough  to  do  on  the  field. 
A  hundred  paces  distant  firom  the  village  stood  a  large  farm- 
house, with  many  empty  dwelling-rooms  and  stables ;  here  we 
were  to  rest  for  the  night   and   hither  we  have  brought   our 
wounded.     The  burial  of  the  dead  is  to  be  done  to-morrow 
morning.     Some  of  the  living  will,  of  course,  be  shovelled  in 
with  them,  for  the  *  stiff  cramp'  after  a  severe  wound  is  a  com- 
mon phenomenon.      Many  who  have  remained  out,  whether 
dead  or  wounded,  or  even  unwounded,  we  are  obliged  to 
abandon  entirely,  especially  those  who  are  lying  under  the  ruins 
[   of  the  fallen  houses.     There  they  may,  if  dead,  moulder  slowly 
1    where  they  are;   if  wounded,  bleed  slowly  to  death;   if  un- 
\  wounded,  die  slowly  of  famine.     And  we,  hurrah  I  may  go  on 
With  our  jolly,  joyous  war  1 

^  "  The  next  engagement  will  probably  be  a  general  action. 
According  to  all  appearance  there  will  be  two  entire  corps 
d^armee  opposed  to  each  other.  The  number  of  the  killed  and 
wounded  may  in  that  case  easily  rise  to  io,ooo ;  for  when  the 
cannons  begin  their  work  of  vomiting  out  death  the  front  ranks 
on  both  sides  are  soon  wiped  out.  It  is  certainly  a  wonderful 
contrivance.  But  still  better  would  it  be  if  the  science  of  artil- 
lery could  progress  to  such  a  point  that  any  army  could  fire  a 
shot  which  would  smash  the  whole  army  of  the  enemy  at  one 
blow.  Then,  perhaps,  all  waging  of  war  would  be  entirely 
given  up.  Force  would  then,  provided  the  total  power  of  the 
two  combatants  were  equally  great,  no  longer  be  looked  to  for 
the  solution  of  questions  of  right. 

"  Why  am  I  writing  all  this  to  you?  Why  do  I  not  break  outj 
as  a  warrior  should,  into  exalted  hymns  of  triumph  over  our 
warlike  work  ?  Why  ?  Because  I  thirst  after  truth,  and  after 
its  expression  without  any  reserve ;  because  at  all  times  I  hate 
lying  phrases ;  but  at  this  moment,  when  I  am  so  near  death 
myself,  and  am  speaking  to  you  who,  perhaps,  are  yourself 
lying  in  the  death-agony,  it  presses  on  me  doubly  to  speak  what 
is  in  my  heart     Even  though  a  thousand  others  should  think 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I55 

differently,  or  should  hold  themselves  bound  at  least  to  speak 
differently,  I  will,  nay,  I  must  say  it  once  more  before  I  fall  a 
sacrifice  to  war — I  hate  war.  If  only  every  man  who  feels  the 
same  would  dare  to  proclaim  it  aloud,  what  a  threatening 
protest  would  be  shouted  out  to  heaven !  All  the  hurrahs 
which  are  now  resounding,  and  all  the  cannon-thunder  that 
accompanies  them,  would  then  be  drowned  by  the  battle-cry 
of  humanity  panting  after  humanity,  by  the  victorious  cry 
denouncing   *  war  on  war '. 

"Half-past  three  in  the  morning.  I  wrote  the  above  last 
night.  Then  I  lay  down  on  a  sack  of  straw  and  slept  for  an 
hour  or  two.  We  shall  break  up  in  half-an-hour,  and  then  I 
shall  be  able  to  give  this  to  the  field-post.  All  is  stirring  now 
and  getting  ready  for  the  march.  Poor  fellows  !  they  have  got 
little  rest  since  the  bloody  work  accomplished  yesterday  :  little 
refreshment  for  that  which  is  to  be  accomplished  to-day.  I 
began  with  a  turn  round  our  improvised  field-hospital,  which  is 
to  remain  here.  There  I  saw  among  the  wounded  and  dying 
a  pair  for  whom  I  would  gladly  have  done  the  same  as  for  the 
horse  in  the  fire — put  a  bullet  as  a  coup  de  grace  through  their 
heads.  One  was  a  man  who  had  had  his  whole  lower  jaw 
shot  away,  and  the  other — but  enough.  I  cannot  help  him. 
Nothing  can  but  Death.  Unfortunately  he  is  often  so  slow.  If 
a  man  calls  in  despair  for  him  he  stands  deaf  before  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  is  far  too  busy  in  snatching  those  away 
who  with  all  their  heart  are  hoping  to  recover,  and  calling 
on  him  beseechingly :  *  Oh,  spare  me,  for  I  have  a  beloved 
wife  pining  for  me  at  home ! '  My  horse  is  saddled,  so  now 
I  must  close  these  lines.  Farewell,  Martha,  if  you  are  still 
herel" 


Luckily  there  were  tidings  of  a  later  date  in  the  packet  than 
the  letter  above  quoted.  After  the  great  battle  predicted  in 
the  last  Frederick  had  been  able  to  tell  me : — 

"  The  day  is  ours.     I  am  unhurt.     These  are  two  pieces  of 


156  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

good  news,  the  first  for  your  papa,  the  second  for  you.  But  I 
cannot  overlook  the  fact  that  the  same  day  has  brought  number- 
less griefs  to  numberless  others.  .  .  ." 

In  another  letter  Frederick  related  how  he  had  met  with  his 
cousin  Godfrey. 

"  Picture  to  yourself  my  astonishment.  Whom  should  I  see 
riding  before  me  at  the  head  of  a  detachment,  but  Aunt  Cor- 
nelia's only  son  !  How  the  poor  woman  must  be  trembling  for 
him.  .  .  The  young  man  himself  is  all  eagerness  and  love  of 
battle.  I  saw  it  in  his  proud,  joyful  bearing,  and  he  has  also 
told  me  so.  We  were  in  camp  together  the  same  evening  and 
I  invited  him  into  my  tent.  *  It  is  indeed  splendid,'  he  cried 
out  in  rapture,  *  that  we  are  fighting  in  the  same  cause,  cousin, 
and  together.  Am  not  I  in  luck,  that  war  should  have  broken 
out  in  the  first  year  of  my  lieutenancy  ?  I  shall  gain  the  Cross 
of  Merit.'  *  And  my  aunt,  how  did  she  take  your  departure  ? ' 
*Oh!  in  the  mother's  way,  with  tears — which  she  did  all  she 
could  to  hide,  so  as  not  to  damp  my  spirit — with  blessings, 
with  grief,  and  with  pride.'  *And  what  were  your  feelings 
when  you  first  got  into  the  melU^ '  *0h,  delightful !  ennobling!' 
*You  need  not  use  falsehood  to  me,  my  dear  boy.  It  is 
not  the  staff  officer  who  is  asking  about  your  feelings  as  a 
lieutenant  bound  to  duty,  but  a  man  and  a  friend.*  *I 
can  only  repeat,  delightful  and  ennobling.  Awfu  1,  I  grant, 
but  so  magnificent.  And  the  consciousness  that  I  am  ful- 
filling, with  God's  help,  the  highest  duty  of  a  man  to  king 
and  country!  And  further,  that  I  see  Death,  the  spectre 
elsewhere  so  feared  and  shunned,  so  close  and  busy  all  round 
me,  his  very  breath  breathing  over  me — the  thought  raises  me 
to  a  mood  of  mind  so  elevated  above  the  common,  so  epic  that 
I  feel  the  muse  of  history  hovering  over  our  heads  and  lending 
our  swords  the  might  of  victory.  A  noble  rage  glows  in  me 
against  the  presumptuous  foe,  who  would  have  trampled  on  the 
rights  of  thfe  German  countries,  and  it  is  to  me  an  enthusiasm 
to  have  the  power  of  gratifying  this  hatred.  It  is  a  curious, 
mysterious  thing,  this  power  of  killing — nay,  this  compulsion  to 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  I57 

kill — without  being  a  murderer— with  a  fearless  exporare  of 
one's  own  life.* 

•*  So  the  boy  chattered  on.  I  let  him  talk.  I  had  similar 
feelings  when  my  first  battle  was  raging  round  me.  *  Epic  ! ' — 
yes,  there  you  hit  on  the  right  word.  The  heroic  poems  and 
the  heroic  histories  by  whose  means  our  schools  bring  us  up  to 
be  warriors,  these  are  what  are  set  vibrating  in  our  brains  by 
the  thunders  of  the  cannonade,  the  flash  of  naked  weapons, 
and  the  shouts  of  the  combatants.  And  the  freedom  from 
ordinary  circumstances,  the  inexplicable  freedom  from  law  in 
which  one  finds  oneself  all  of  a  sudden,  makes  one  feel  as  if 
transported  into  another  world — it  is  like  an  outlook  beyond 
this  trumpery  earthly  existence,  with  its  peaceful  domestic  quiet, 
into  a  titanic  struggle  of  infernal  spirits.  But  this  giddiness 
soon  passed  over  with  me,  and  it  is  only  with  an  effort  that  I 
can  bring  back  to  my  mind  the  sensations  which  young  Tessow 
sketched  to  me.  I  recognised  too  soon  that  the  desire  for 
battle  was  not  a  supgr-human  but  an  infra-human  feeling,  no 
mystic  revelation  from  the  realms  of  the  morning,  but  a  reminis- 
cence of  the  realm  of  the  animal,  a  re-awakening  of  the  brutal. 
And  a  man  who  can  intoxicate  himself  into  a  savage  lust  for 
blood,  who — as  I  have  seen  several  of  our  men  do—can  cut 
down  with  uplifted  sabre  an  unarmed  enemy,  who  can  sink  into 
a  Berserker,  or  lower  still,  a  blood-thirsty  tiger — that  is  the 
man  who,  for  the  moment,  revels  in  the  *  joy  of  battle ',  I 
never  did  this.     Believe  me,  my  wife ;  I  never  did. 

"  Godfrey  is  delighted  that  we  Austrians  are  united  in  fight- 
ing for  the  *  right  cause '  (how  does  he  know  that  ?  As  if  every 
cause  is  not  always  represented  as  the  *  right '  one  by  its  own 
side !)  with  the  Prussians :  *  Yes,  we  Germans  are  all  one 
united  people  of  brothers  1 '  *  That  was  seen  long  ago  in  the 
Thirty  Years'  War,  and  also  in  the  Seven  Years'  War,*  I  struck 
in  half-aloud.  Godfrey  missed  what  I  said,  and  went  on  ;  *  For 
each  other  and  with  each  other  we  can  conquer  every  foe'. 
What  will  you  say  then,  my  young  friend,  if  to-day  or  to- 
morrow the  Prussians  and  Austrians  quarrel,  and  we  two  shaU 


158  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

be  ranged  as  foes,  one  against  each  other  ?  *  *  Not  conceivab^, 
now,  after  the  blood  of  both  of  us  has  flowed  for  the  same 

cause.     Now  surely  we  can  never  more '     *  Never  more  ? 

I  would  warn  you  not  to  use  the  expressions  *'  never  "  or  **  for 
ever  "  in  political  matters.  What  ephemerides  are  in  the  scale 
of  living  beings,  such  are  the  friendships  and  enmities  of  nations 
in  the  scale  of  historical  phenomena.' 

"  I  write  all  this  down,  Martha,  not  that  I  think  it  can  interest 
you,  poor  sufferer,  nor  because  I  want  to  make  reflections  to  you 
upon  it,  but  I  have  an  idea  that  I  shall  fall,  and  in  that  case  I 
do  not  wish  my  sentiments  to  sink  into  the  grave  with  me 
unuttered.  My  letter  may  even  be  found  and  read  by  others,  if 
not  by  you.  That  which  is  coming  up  in  the  minds  of  soldiers 
who  think  freely,  and  feel  like  men,  shall  not  remain  for  ever 
unspoken  and  concealed.  *  I  have  dared  it  *  was  Ulrich  v. 
Hutten's  motto.  *  I  have  spoken  it,'  and  with  this  to  quiet  my 
conscience,  I  can  depart  this  life.*' 

The  most  recent  news  that  had  reached  me  had  been  sent 
off  five  days,  and  arrived  two  days  previously.  What  was  to 
show  that  in  five  days — five  days  of  war — anything  might  not 
have  taken  place  ?  Anxiety  and  fear  seized  me.  Why  had  no 
line  come  yesterday?  Why  none  to-day?  Oh,  this  longing 
for  a  letter — or,  better,  a  telegram !  I  beh'eve  no  one  in  the 
tortures  of  fever  can  so  long  for  water  as  I  then  was  longing 
for  news.  I  was  saved;  he  would  have  the  great  joy  of 
finding  me  alive,  if— always  this  "if"  which  nips  every  hope 
for  the  future  in  the  bud. 

My  father  was  obliged  to  depart.  He  could  now  leave  me 
with  a  quiet  mind.  The  danger  was  over,  and  he  had  now 
pressing  business  at  Gnimitz.  As  soon  as  I  had  got  th<2 
needful  strength,  I  was  to  follow  him  there  with  my  little 
Rudolf.  A  stay  in  the  fresh  country  air  would  in  the  first 
place  restore  me  entirely,  and  would  also  do  good  to  the  little 
boy.  Aunt  Mary  stayed  behind.  She  was  to  keep  on  nursing 
me  and  then  to  travel  with  us  to  Grumitz  where  Rosa  and 
Lilly  had  already  gone  on  before.     I  let  them  talk  and  make 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  I59 

plans  for  me.  Without  saying  anything  I  had  made  up  my 
mind,  as  soon  as  I  was  even  half  able  to  do  so,  to  set  off  fof 
Schleswig-Holstein. 

Where  Frederick's  regiment  might  be  at  this  moment,  we 
knew  not.  It  was  impossible  to  get  any  despatch  forwarded 
to  him,  or  I  should  have  liked  to  telegraph  to  him  every  hour, 
and  to  ask :  "  Are  you  alive  ?  " 

"  You  must  not  excite  yourself  so,"  my  father  preached  to 
me,  as  he  took  leave  of  me,  "  or  else  you  are  sure  to  get  a 
relapse  again.  Two  days  without  news — what  is  there  in  that  ? 
There  is  really  no  reason  at  all  for  anxiety.  There  are  not 
letter-boxes  or  telegraph  stations  all  over  the  field  of  battle : 
leaving  out  of  the  question  that  a  man  during  the  march  and 
the  battle  and  the  bivouac  is  in  no  condition  to  write.  The 
field  post  does  not  always  act  regularly,  and  so  one  may 
easily  remain  a  fortnight  without  news,  and  still  that  signify 
nothing  bad.  In  my  time  I  have  often  been  even  longer 
without  writing  home ;  but  no  one  was  anxious  about  me  on 
that  account." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  papa?  I  am  sure  that  your 
relations  trembled  for  you  just  as  much  as  I  am  trembling  for 
Frederick.     Did  you  not,  aunt  ?  " 

"  We  had  more  trust  in  God  than  you  have,"  she  replied. 
"  We  knew  that  a  merciful  Providence  would  so  order  it,  that, 
whether  we  got  any  news  or  none,  your  father  would  come 
back  to  us." 

"  And  if  I  had  never  come  back,  but  had  got  smashed  to 
bits,  you  would  have  had  enough  love  for  your  country  to 
allow  that  so  small  a  thing  as  the  life  of  an  individual  soldier 
quite  vanishes  in  the  great  cause  for  which  he  has  parted  with 
it.  You,  my  daughter,  have  not  for  a  long  time  been  patriotic 
enough.  But  I  will  not  scold  you  now.  The  main  point  is 
that  you  should  get  well  again,  and  preserve  yourself  for  your 
Rudi,  to  make  a  brave  man  of  him,  and  bring  him  up  to  be  a 
defender  of  his  country. ' 


l60  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

I  did  not  get  well  so  quickly  as  was  hoped  at  first  The 
continued  absence  of  news  threw  me  into  such  excitement 
and  misery  that  I  never  really  got  out  of  a  feverish  condition. 
My  nights  were  filled  with  horrible  phantoms  and  my  days 
passed  in  weary  longing-  or  troubled  stupor,  so  that  it  was 
difficult  to  get  my  strength  up  again. 

Once,  after  a  night  in  which  I  had  had  peculiarly  terrifying 
visions — Frederick,  alive,  but  buried  under  a  heap  of  corpses  of 
men  and  horses — a  relapse  actually  set  in  which  again  brought 
me  in  danger  of  my  life.  My  poor  Aunt  Mary  had  a  hard 
time  of  it.  She  thought  it  a  duty  to  preach  comfort  and 
resignation  to  me  unceasingly,  and  her  reason  for  it,  the 
"destiny"  which  was  constantly  coming  in  again,  had  the 
effect  of  irritating  me  to  the  extreme,  and  instead  of  letting 
her  quietly  prose  away  I  set  myself  to  contradict  her  pas- 
sionately, to  complain  of  my  fate  in  defiance  of  her,  and  to* 
assure  her  in  plain  terms  that  her  "destiny"  seemed  to  me 
folly.  All  this,  of  course,  sounded  blasphemous,  and  my  good 
aunt  not  only  felt  herself  personally  insulted,  but  she  trembled 
also  for  my  rebellious  soul,  so  soon,  perhaps,  to  appear  before 
the  judgment  seat.  There  was  only  one  means  to  quiet  me 
for  a  few  minutes.  That  was  to  bring  little  Rudolf  into  my 
bed-room.  "  You  beloved  child  of  mine !  You  are  my  com- 
fort, my  stay,  my  future !  **  This  is  what  I  cried  out  in  my 
inward  soul  to  the  boy  whenever  I  saw  him.  But  he  did  not 
like  staying  long  in  the  darkened  sick-room.  It  struck  him  as 
uncanny  to  see  his  mamma  who  used  to  be  so  gay  now  lying 
constantly  in  bed,  pale  and  exhausted  with  weeping.  He 
became  himself  quite  out  of  spirits,  and  so  I  only  kept  him  with 
me  for  a  few  minutes  at  a  time. 

Frequent  inquiries  and  news  came  from  my  father.  He  had 
written  to  Frederick's  colonel  and  to  several  other  people 
besides,  but  "  had  no  answer  as  yet ".  When  any  list  of  killed 
and  wounded  came  in  he  would  send  me  a  telegram :  "  Frederick 
not  thei«"«    "Ohl  perhaps  you  are  deceiving  me*''  I  once 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  l6l 

asked  my  aunt,  "perhaps  the  news  of  his  death  has  arrived 
long  ago  and  you  are  concealing  it  from  me " 

**  I  swear  to  you " 

"  On  your  honour,  on  your  soul  ?  * 

"On  my  soul." 

Such  an  assurance  as  this  did  me  more  good  than  I  can  tell ; 
for  I  clung  with  all  my  might  to  my  hope ;  every  hour  I  was 
expecting  the  arrival  of  a  letter — of  a  telegram.  At  every  noise 
in  the  next  room  I  fancied  that  it  was  the  postman,  almost 
continually  my  eyes  were  turning  towards  the  door  with  the 
constant  picture  of  some  one  coming  in  with  the  blessed  message 
in  his  hand.  When  I  look  back  on  those  days  they  seem  to 
present  themselves  to  my  memory  as  a  whole  year  filled  with 
torture.  The  next  gleam  of  light  for  me  was  the  news  that  a 
suspension  of  arms  had  again  been  agreed  on ;  this  must  surely 
this  time  be  the  presage  of  peace.  On  the  day  after  the  receipt 
of  this  intelligence  I  sat  up  for  a  little  while  for  the  first  time. 
Peace  !  what  a  sweet,  what  a  happy  thought !  Perhaps  too  late 
for  me.  No  matter.  I  felt  myself  anyhow  unspeakably  calmed , 
at  any  rate  I  had  no  need  to  fancy  every  day,  every  hour,  the 
raging  battle  going  on  in  which  Frederick  might  at  that  moment 
be  killed. 

"  Thank  God  1  now  you  will  soon  be  well,"  said  my  aunt  one 
day  after  helping  me  to  seat  myself  on  a  couch  which  had  been 
moved  to  the  open  window  for  me.  "  And  then  we  can  go  to 
Grumitz." 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  strength  for  it,  I  am  going  to  Alsen." 

"  To  Alsen  ?     My  dear  child,  what  are  you  thinking  about  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  find  the  place  there  where  Frederick  was  either 
wounded  or *'     I  could  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"Shall  I  fetch  little  Rudolf?"  said  my  aunt  after  a  pause. 
She  knew  that  this  was  the  best  way  to  chase  away  my  troubled 
thoughts  for  a  time. 

"  No,  not  yet,  I  want  to  be  quite  quiet  and  alone.  It  would 
be  doing  me  a  kindness,  aunt,  if  even  you  would  go  into  the 
next  room.     Perhaps  I  may  sleep  a  little,  I  feel  so  weak  I " 

II 


1 62  LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,  I  will  leave  you  quiet.  There  is  a  bel\ 
here  on  the  table  by  you.  If  you  want  anything,  some  one 
will  be  ready  at  once." 

"  Has  the  letter-carrier  been  here  ?  * 

"No,  it  is  not  post  time  yet." 

"  If  he  comes,  call  me." 

I  lay  down  and  shut  my  eyes.  My  aunt  went  out  softly. 
All  the  people  in  the  house  had  lately  adopted  this  inaudible 
walk. 

I  did  not  want  to  sleep,  but  to  be  alone  with  my  thoughts. 
I  was  in  the  same  room,  on  the  same  couch  as  on  that  afternoon 
when  Frederick  came  to  tell  me  "  we  have  got  marching  orders  ". 
It  was  just  as  sultry  again  as  on  that  day,  and  again  there  were 
roses  breathing  in  a  vase  near  me,  and  again  the  trumpet  exer- 
cise was  sounding  from  the  barracks.  I  could  return  entirely 
into  the  frame  of  mind  of  that  day.  I  wished  I  could  go  to 
sleep  again  in  the  same  way  and  dream  as  I  then  fancied  I 
dreamt — that  the  door  opened  gently  and  my  beloved  husband 
entered.  The  roses  were  smelling  even  more  powerfully,  and 
through  the  open  window  the  distant  tra-ra-ra  was  sounding. 
By  degrees  my  consciousness  of  present  things  vanished.  I 
found  myself  ever  more  and  more  transported  into  that  hour ; 
all  was  forgotten  that  had  happened  since,  and  only  the  one 
fixed  idea  became  ever  more  intense  that  at  any  moment  the 
door  might  open  and  give  my  dear  one  admission.  But  to 
this  end  I  had  to  dream  that  I  was  keeping  my  eyes  only  half 
open.  It  was  an  effort  to  force  myself  to  this,  but  it  succeeded. 
I  opened  my  eyelids  ever  so  little  and 

And  there  it  was,  the  entrancing  vision !  Frederick,  my 
beloved  Frederick,  on  the  threshold.  With  a  loud  sob, 
and  covering  my  face  with  both  hands,  I  roused  myself  from 
my  dreamy  state.  It  was  clear  to  me  at  a  stroke  that  this  was 
only  a  hallucination,  and  the  heavenly  ray  of  happiness  that 
had  been  poured  round  me  by  this  delusion  made  the  hellish 
night  of  my  misery  seem  all  the  blacker  to  me. 

"Oh,  my  Frederick,  my  lost  one  I"  I  groaned 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  163 

"  Martha,  my  wife  ! " 

What  was  that  ?     A  real  voice,  his  own,  and  real  arms  that 

were  thrown  eagerly  round  me 

It  was  no  dream,    I  was  lying  on  my  husband's  breast. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  joy  of  re-union, — Summer  at  Grumifz. — Recollections  of  the 
war, — My  husband  resolves  to  quit  the  service. — Education 
of  my  little  son, — Cousin  Conrad'' s  love  affair. — The  end  of 
the  Danish  war  and  the  conditions  of  peace. — New  troubles. 
— I  lose  my  fortune^  and  my  husband  is  obliged  to  remain  in 
the  service, — Lori  GriesbacKs  flirtation  with  my  husband. 
^-Jealousy, — An  April  fool. 

As  in  the  last  hours  of  his  departure  our  pain  had  expressed 
itself  in  tears  and  kisses  more  than  in  words,  so  it  was  in  this 
hour  of  our  seeing  each  other  again.  That  one  can  become 
mad  with  joy,  I  plainly  felt,  as  I  held  fast  him  whom  I  had 
believed  to  be  lost,  as  sobbing  and  laughing  and  trembling  with 
excitement,  I  kept  clasping  the  dear  head  again  between  both 
my  hands,  and  kissing  him  on  the  forehead  and  eyes  and 
mouth,  while  I  stammered  out  unmeaning  words. 

On  my  first  cry  of  joy  Aunt  Mary  hurried  in  from  the  next 
room.  She  also  had  had  no  idea  of  Frederick's  return,  and  at 
his  sight  she  sank  on  the  nearest  chair  with  a  loud  cry  of 
"  Jesus,  Maria,  and  Joseph ! " 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  first  tumult  of  joy  had  suffi- 
ciently subsided  to  allow  space  for  questions  and  counter- 
questions  on  both  sides,  confidences  and  news.  Then  we 
found  that  Frederick  had  been  left  lying  in  a  peasant's  house, 
while  his  regiment  marched  on.  The  wound  was  not  a  severe 
one;  but  he  lay  for  several  days  in  a  fever,  unconscious.  During 
this  period  no  letters  reached  him,  nor  was  it  possible  for  him 
to  send  any.     When  he  recovered,  the  suspension  of  arms 

(164) 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  1 65 

had  been  proclaimed,  and  the  war  was  virtually  at  an  end. 
Nothing  prevented  his  hastening  home.  At  that  time  he  did 
not  write  or  telegraph  any  more,  but  travelled  night  and  day 
in  order  to  get  home  as  soon  as  possible.  Whether  I  was  still 
alive,  whether  I  was  out  of  danger,  he  knew  not.  He  would 
not  even  make  any  inquiry  about  it,  only  get  there,  get  there, 
without  losing  an  hour,  and  without  cutting  off  the  hope  from 
his  homeward  journey  of  finding  his  dearest  again.  And  this 
hope  was  not  frustrated ;  he  had  now  found  his  dearest  again, 
saved  and  happy,  happy  above  all  measure. 

In  a  little  while  we  all  removed  to  my  father's  country-seat. 
Frederick  had  obtained  a  long  leave  for  the  restoration  of  his 
health,  and  the  means  prescribed  by  his  physician — rest  and 
good  air — he  could  best  find  at  our  house  at  Grumitz. 

It  was  a  happy  time,  that  late  summer.  I  do  not  recollect 
any  period  in  my  life  which  was  more  fair.  Union  at  last  with 
a  loved  one  long  sighed  for  may  well  be  held  infinitely  sweet ; 
but  to  me  the  re-union  with  one  half  given  up  for  lost  neces- 
sarily seemed  almost  sweeter  still.  When  I  only  for  an  instant 
brought  back  to  my  own  memory  the  fearful  feelings  that  had 
filled  my  heart  before  Frederick's  return,  or  called  up  before 
myself  again  the  pictures  which  had  tormented  my  feverish 
nights,  of  Frederick's  suffering  all  kinds  of  death-agonies,  and 
then  satiated  myself  with  his  sight,  my  heart  leapt  for  joy.  I 
now  loved  him  more,  a  hundred  times  more,  my  regained 
husband,  and  I  regarded  the  possession  of  him  as  ever-increas- 
ing riches.  A  little  while  ago  I  looked  on  myself  as  a  beggar, 
now  I  had  drawn  the  grand  prize ! 

The  whole  family  was  assembled  at  Grumitz.  Otto,  too, 
my  brother,  was  spending  his  holidays  with  us.  He  was  now 
fifteen  years  old,  and  had  three  years  to  pass  at  the  Neustadt 
MiHtary  Academy  at  Vienna.  A  fine  fellow  my  brother,  and 
my  father's  dariing  and  pride.  He  as  well  as  Lilly  and  Rosa 
filled  the  house  with  their  merriment.  It  was  a  constant 
laughing  and  romping  and  playing  ball  and  rackets  and  all 
sorts  of  mad  amies.     Cousin  Conrad,  whose  regiment  lay  not 


1 66  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

far  from  Grumitz  in  garrison,  came  as  often  as  possible,  riding 
over,  and  took  his  part  gallantly  in  all  these  youthful  sports.  The 
old  folks  formed  a  second  party,  namely,  Aunt  Mary,  my  father, 
and  a  few  of  his  comrades  who  were  staying  as  guests  in  the 
house.  Among  them  there  was  serious  card-playing,  quiet 
walks  in  the  park,  a  devoted  cultivation  of  the  pleasures  of  the 
table,  and  immeasurable  talks  about  politics.  The  military 
events  that  had  just  taken  place,  and  the  Schleswig-Holstein 
question,  which  the  latter  had  by  no  means  set  at  rest,  offered 
a  rich  field  for  these  talks.  Frederick  and  I  lived  practically 
separate,  or  nearly  so,  from  the  rest — we  only  met  them  at 
meals,  and  not  always  then — we  were  allowed  to  do  as  we  liked. 
It  was  taken  as  a  settled  thing  that  we  were  going  through  a 
second  edition  of  our  honeymoon,  and  that  solitude  suited  us. 
And  indeed  we  were  best  pleased  to  be  alone.  Not  at  all,  as 
the  others  perhaps  thought,  to  play  and  caress  in  honeymoon 
fashion,  we  were  not  "newly  married"  enough  for  that,  but 
because  we  found  most  satisfaction  in  mutual  conversation. 
After  the  heavy  sorrows  we  had  just  passed  through,  we  could 
not  share  the  naive  gaiety  of  the  youthful  party,  and  still  less 
did  we  sympathise  with  the  interests  and  the  conversations  of 
the  dignified  personages,  and  so  we  preferred  to  secure  for  our- 
selves a  good  deal  of  retirement,  under  the  privilege  of  a  pair  of 
lovers,  which  was  tacitly  granted  to  us.  We  undertook  long  walks 
together — sometimes  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood,  in  which 
we  stayed  away  the  whole  day — we  spent  whole  hours  alone 
together  in  the  book-room,  and  in  the  evening,  when  the  various 
card  parties  were  being  made  up,  we  retired  into  our  rooms 
where  over  tea  and  cigarettes  we  resumed  our  familiar  chat. 
We  always  found  an  infinity  of  things  to  say  to  each  other. 
We  liked  best  to  tell  each  other  of  the  feelings  of  woe  and 
horror  which  we  experienced  during  our  separation,  for  this 
always  awakened  again  the  joy  of  our  re-union.  We  agreed  that 
presentiments  of  death  and  such  like  things  are  nothing  but 
superstition,  since  both  of  us,  from  the  hour  of  our  leave-taking, 
had  been  penetrated  with  the  conviction  that  one  or  the  other 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS,  167 

must  necessarily  die,  yet  here  we  had  each  other  back ! 
Frederick  had  to  recount  to  me  in  detail  all  the  dangers  and 
sufferings  which  he  had  just  gone  through,  and  to  describe  the 
pictures  of  horror  from  the  battlefield  and  hospital  which  he 
had  absorbed  lately  into  his  shuddering  soul.  I  loved  the  tone 
of  repugnance  and  pain  which  quivered  in  his  voice  during  such 
recitals.  From  the  way  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  cruelties  he 
had  witnessed  during  the  confusion  of  the  war,  I  gathered  the 
promise  of  an  elevation  of  humanity,  the  result  of  which  would 
be,  first  in  individuals,  then  in  the  many,  and  finally  in  all  to 
overcome  the  old  barbarity. 

My  father  also  and  Otto  often  called  upon  Frederic!  to 
interest  them  with  episodes  from  the  late  campaign.  This  indeed 
was  done  in  quite  a  different  spirit  from  that  in  which  I  begged 
for  such  stories,  and  Frederick's  relation  was  given  in  quite  a 
different  spirit.  He  contented  himself  with  describing  the  tactical 
movements  of  the  forces,  the  events  of  the  battles,  the  names 
of  the  places  taken  or  defended,  recounting  single  camp-scenes, 
repeating  speeches  which  had  been  made  by  the  generals, 
and  such  like  miscellanea  of  the  war.  His  audience  was  de- 
lighted with  it.  My  father  listened  with  satisfaction.  Otto  with 
admiration,  the  generals  with  the  solemnity  of  experts.  I 
alone  could  not  find  any  relish  in  this  dry  style  of  narrative.  I 
knew  that  this  covered  a  whole  world  of  feelings  and  thoughts 
which  the  matters  related  had  awakened  in  the  depths  of  the 
speaker's  soul.  When  I  once  reproached  him  with  this  when 
'we  were  alone,  he  replied  : — 

"  Falsehood  ?  Dishonesty  ?  Want  of  enthusiasm  ?  No,  my 
dear ;  you  are  mistaken.  It  is  mere  decorum.  Do  you  re- 
member our  wedding-tour,  our  departure  from  Vienna,  the  first 
time  we  were  alone  in  the  carriage,  the  night  in  the  hotel  at 
Prague?  Did  you  ever  repeat  the  details  of  tho-e  hours, 
or  ever  sketch  to  your  friends  and  relations  the  feelings  and 
emotions  of  that  happy  time  ?  " 

"  No  ;  of  course  not.  Every  woman  must  surely  be  silent 
about  such  things.** 


l68  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

**  Then  don't  you  see  that  there  are  things  also  which  every  man 
is  silent  about  ?  You  could  not  tell  of  your  joys  in  love ;  nor 
could  we  of  our  sufferings  in  war.  The  former  might  lay  bare 
your  chief  virtue,  modesty;  the  latter  ours,  courage.  The 
delights  of  the  honeymoon,  and  the  terrors  of  the  battlefield, 
no  *  womanly  *  woman  can  speak  of  the  one,  nor  any  *  manly ' 
man  of  the  other.  What?  You  may,  in  the  rapture  of  love, 
have  poured  out  sweet  tears !  and  I  may  have  in  the  imminence 
of  the  death-agony  uttered  a  cry  How  could  you  acknowledge 
such  a  sensibility;  how  could  I  such  a  cowardice ?  '* 

"  But  did  you  cry  out,  Frederick,  did  you  tremble  ?  You 
may  surely  say  it  to  me.  I  do  not,  you  know,  conceal  the  joys 
of  my  love  from  you,  and  you  may  to  me " 

**  Confess  to  you  the  fears  of  death  which  seize  us  soldiers 
on  the  field  of  battle  ?  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  Phrases 
and  poetry  tell  lies  about  it.  The  inspiration  artificially  caused 
in  this  way  by  phrases  and  poetry  is,  I  grant,  capable  for 
an  instant  of  overcoming  the  natural  instinct  towards  self-pre- 
servation ;  but  only  for  an  instant.  In  cruel  men  the  pleasure 
of  killing  and  destroying  may  also  sometimes  chase  away  their 
fear  for  their  own  lives.  In  men  tenacious  of  honour  pride  is 
capable  of  suppressing  the  outward  manifestation  of  this  fear ; 
but  how  many  of  the  poor  young  fellows  have  I  not  heard 
groaning  and  whimpering  ?  What  looks  of  despair,  what  faces 
agonised  with  the  fear  of  death  have  I  not  seen?  What  wild 
wailings,  and  curses,  and  beseeching  prayers  have  I  not 
heard  ?  " 

"  And  that  gave  you  pain,  my  good,  gentle  husband." 

"Such  pain  often  that  I  cried  out,  Martha.  And  yet  too 
little  to  express  properly  my  power  of  sympathy.  .  .  .  One 
might  think  that  if,  at  the  sight  of  a  single  suffering,  a  man 
is  seized  with  pity,  a  suffering  multiplied  a  thousandfold 
would  therefore  excite  a  thousand  times  stronger  pity.  But  the 
contrary  occurs  ;  the  magnitude  stupefies  one.  One  cannot  be 
so  tenderly  grieved  for  an  individual  when  one  sees,  all  round 
him,  999  others  just  as  miserable.     But  even  if  one  has  not  the 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  Z69 

capacity  Xjojeel  beyond  a  certain  level  of  compassion,  yet  one 
may  be  capable  of  thinking  and  computing  that  one  has  an 
inconceivable  quantity  of  woe  before  one." 

"You,  and  one  or  two  others  may  be  capable,  but  the 
majority  of  men  neither  think  nor  compute." 

I  succeeded  in  moving  Frederick  to  the  resolve  of  quitting 
the  service.  The  circumstance  that  he  had,  after  his  marriage, 
served  now  more  than  a  year,  and  taken  a  distinguished  part 
in  a  campaign,  would  defend  him  from  the  suspicion  which 
had  occurred  to  my  father  during  our  engagement,  that  the 
whole  marriage  had  for  its  object  only  to  enable  him  to  give  up 
his  career.  Now,  when  peace  should  once  be  made,  the  pre- 
liminaries of  which  were  in  train,  and  when  to  all  probability 
there  were  long  years  of  peace  in  prospect,  retirement  from 
the  army  would  now  not  involve  anything  dishonourable.  It 
was,  indeed,  still,  to  some  extent,  repugnant  to  Frederick's 
pride  to  give  up  his  rank  and  income,  and,  as  he  said,  **  to  do 
nothing,  to  be  nothing,  and  to  have  nothing,"  but  his  love 
for  me  was  with  him  an  even  more  powerful  feeling  than  his 
pride,  and  he  could  not  resist  my  entreaties.  I  declared  that 
I  could  not  go  through  a  second  time  the  anguish  of  mind 
which  his  last  parting  caused  me;  and  he  himself  might  well 
shrink  from  again  calling  down  on  us  both  such  pain.  The 
feeling  of  delicacy,  which,  before  his  marriage  with  me,  made 
him  shrink  from  the  idea  of  living  on  the  fortune  of  a  rich 
woman,  no  longer  came  into  play,  for  we  had  become  so 
completely  ont  that  there  was  no  longer  any  perceptible 
difference  between  "mine"  and  ** yours,"  and  we  understood 
each  other  so  well  that  no  misjudgment  of  his  character 
on  my  part  was  any  longer  to  be  feared.  The  last  campaign 
had  besides  so  greatly  increased  his  aversion  to  the 
murderous  duties  of  war,  and  his  unqualified  expression  of 
that  aversion  had  so  rooted  it  in  him,  that  his  retirement 
got  to  appear  not  like  a  concession  made  to  our  domestic 
happiness  so  much  as  the  putting  into  action  of  his  own 
intention,  as  a  tribute  to  his  convictions,  and  so  he  promise^ 


170  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

me  in  the  coming  autumn,  if  the  negotiations  for  peace  were 
then  concluded,  to  take  his  discharge. 

We  planned  buying  an  estate  with  my  fortune,  which  was 
then  in  the  hands  of  Schmidt  &  Sons,  the  bankers,  and  Frede- 
rick was  to  find  employment  in  managing  it.  In  this  way  the 
first  part  of  his  trouble,  **  doing  nothing,  being  nothing,  and 
having  nothing,"  would  be  removed.  As  to  "being"  and 
•*  having,"  we  could  also  find  a  remedy. 

"  To  be  a  retired  colonel  in  the  imperial  and  royal  service, 
and  a  happy  man,  is  not  that  enough  ?  "  I  asked.  "  And  to 
have?  You  have  us — me  and  Rudi — and  those  who  are 
coming.      Is  not  that  enough,  too?" 

He  smiled,  and  took  me  in  his  arms. 

We  did  not  choose  just  at  first  to  communicate  anything 
of  our  plans  to  my  father  and  the  rest.  They  would  certainly 
raise  objections,  give  pieces  of  advice,  express  disapprobation, 
and  all  that  was  quite  superfluous  as  yet.  Later  on  we  should 
know  how  to  put  ourselves  above  all  that,  for,  when  two  people 
are  all  in  all  to  each  other,  all  foreign  opinion  falls  off  them 
without  making  any  impression.  The  certainty  for  the  future 
thus  obtained  increased  still  more  the  enjoyment  of  the  pre- 
sent, which,  even  without  that,  was  so  heightened  and  enlarged 
by  the  delirium  of  the  bitter  past  which  we  had  gone  through. 
I  can  only  repeat  it  was  a  happy  time.  My  son  Rudolf,  now 
a  little  fellow  of  seven,  was  beginning  at  this  time  to  learn 
reading  and  writing,  and  his  instructress  was  myself.  I  had 
never  given  my  bonne  the  delight — which,  besides,  would, 
I  daresay,  have  been  none  for  her — of  seeing  this  little  soul 
slowly  expand,  and  of  bringing  to  it  the  first  surprises  of  know- 
ledge. The  boy  was  often  the  companion  of  our  walks,  and 
we  were  never  tired  of  answering  the  questions  which  his 
growing  appetite  for  knowledge  made  him  address  to  us.  To 
answer,  that  is,  as  well  and  as  far  as  we  could.  We  never  per- 
mitted ourselves  to  tell  a  falsehood.  We  never  avoided  answer- 
ing such  questions  as  we  could  not  decide — such  as  no  man 
can  decide — with  a  plain  ^^that  no  one  knows,  Rudi".    At 


L4T   DOWN   TOUR   ARMS.  I7I 

first  it  would  happen  that  Rudolf,  not  satisfied  with  such  an 
answer,  took  his  question  sometimes  to  Aunt  Mary,  or  to  his 
grandfather,  or  to  the  nurse,  and  then  he  always  got  unhesi- 
tating solutions.  Then  he  would  come  back  to  us  in  triumph  : 
"  You  don't  know  how  old  the  moon  is  ?  I  know  now.  It's 
six  thousand  years — you  remember."  Frederick  and  I  ex- 
changed a  silent  glance.  A  whole  volume  full  of  pedagogic 
fault-finding  and  opinions  was  contained  in  that  glance  and 
that  silence. 

Above  all  things  unbearable  to  me  were  the  soldiers*  games 
which  not  only  my  father  but  my  brother  carried  on  with  the 
boy.  The  idea  of  **  enemy  "  and  "  cutting  down  "  were  thus 
instilled  into  him,  I  know  not  how.  One  day  Frederick  and 
I  came  up  as  Rudolf  was  mercilessly  beating  two  whimpering 
young  dogs  with  a  riding- switch. 

"  That  is  a  lying  Italian,"  he  said,  laying  on  to  one  of  the 
poor  beasts,  "and  that,"  on  to  the  other,  "an  impudent 
Dane." 

Frederick  snatched  the  switch  out  of  the  hand  of  this 
national  corrector. 

"  And  that  is  a  cruel  Austrian,"  he  said,  letting  one  or  two 
good  blows  fall  on  Rudolfs  shoulders.  The  Italian  and  the 
Dane  gladly  ran  off,  and  the  whimpering  was  now  done  by  our 
little  countryman. 

"  You  are  not  angry  with  me,  Martha,  for  striking  your  son  ? 
I  am  not,  it  is  true;  in  favour  generally  of  corporal  punishment, 
but  cruelty  to  animals  provokes  me." 

"  You  did  right,"  I  said. 

"  Then  is  it  only  to  men  .  .  .  that  one  may  ...  be  cruel  ?  " 
asked  the  boy  between  his  sobs. 

"  Oh,  no ;  still  less." 

"  But  you,  yourself,  have  hit  Italians  and  Danes." 

"They  were  enemies." 

"  Then  one  may  hate  them  ?  " 

"  And  to-day  or  to-morrow,"  said  Frederick,  aside  to  me, 
'•^e  priest  will  be  telling  him  that  one  ought  to  love  one's 


17^  LAI    DOWN   YOUR  ARlfS. 

enemies.  What  logic!"  Then,  aloud  to  Rudolf:  "No; 
it  is  not  because  we  hate  them  that  we  may  strike  our  foes, 
but  because  they  want  to  strike  us." 

**And  what  do  they  want  to  strike  us  for?" 

"Because  we  wanted  to— No,  no,"  he  interrupted  himself. 
**  I  find  no  way  out  of  the  circle.  Go  and  play,  Rudi ;  we 
forgive  you,  but  don't  do  so  any  more." 

Cousin  Conrad  was,  as  I  thought,  making  progress  in  Lilly's 
favour.  There  is  nothing  like  perseverance.  I  should  have 
been  very  glad  to  see  this  match  now  made  up,  and  I  observed 
with  pleasure  how  my  sister's  countenance  lighted  up  with  joy 
when  the  tread  of  Conrad's  horse  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and 
how  she  sighed  when  he  rode  off  again.  He  no  longer  courted 
her,  i.e.^  he  spoke  no  more  of  his  love,  and  did  not  bring  his 
suit  forward,  but  his  proceedings  constituted  a  regular  siege. 

"As  there  are  different  ways  of  taking  a  fortress,"  he 
explained  to  me  one  day,  "  by  storm  or  by  famine,  so  there 
are  many  ways  of  making  a  lady  capitulate.  One  of  the  most 
effectual  of  these  is  custom ;  sympathy.  It  must  touch  her  at 
length  that  I  am  so  constant  in  loving,  and  so  constant  in 
keeping  silence  about  it,  and  always  coming  again.  If  I 
should  stay  away,  it  would  make  a  great  gap  in  her  way  of 
life ;  and  if  I  go  on  in  this  way  some  time  longer,  she  will  not 
be  able  to  do  without  me  at  all." 

"  And  how  many  times  seven  years  do  you  mean  to  serve 
for  your  chosen  one  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  counted  that  up.     Till  she  takes  me." 

"I  do  admire  you.  Are  there  then  no  other  girls  in  the 
world?" 

"Not  for  me.  I  have  got  Lilly  into  my  head.  She  has 
something  in  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  in  her  gait,  her  way  of 
speaking,  that  no  other  woman  can  equal,  for  me.  You,  for 
example,  Marjtha,  are  ten  times  as  pretty,  and  a  hundred  times 
as  clever." 

"Thank  you." 

"  But  I  would  not  have  you  for  a  wife." 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS.  I73 

•"Thank  you." 

"  Just  because  you  are  too  clever.  Yon  would  be  sure  to 
look  down  on  me  from  a  higher  level.  The  star  on  my 
collar,  my  sabre  and  my  spurs  do  not  impose  on  you.  Lilly, 
however,  looks  with  respect  on  a  man  of  action.  I  know  she 
adores  soldiers,  while  you " 

"  Still,  I  have  twice  married  a  soldier,'*  replied  I  laughing. 

During  meals,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table  where  my  father 
and  his  old  friends  gave  the  tone,  and  where  Frederick  and  I 
also  sat  (the  young  folks  at  the  other  end  had  their  own  talk 
to  themselves),  politics  was  the  chief  subject;  that  was  the 
favourite  material  for  conversation  with  the  old  gentlemen. 
The  negotiations  for  peace  which  were  in  progress  gave 
sufficient  ground  for  this  display  of  wisdom,  for  it  is  a  firm 
conviction  of  most  people  that  political  events  form  the  most 
sterling  matter  for  conversation  and  that  most  suited  for  serious 
men.  From  gallantry  and  out  of  friendly  regard  for  my 
female  weakness  of  intellect,  one  of  the  generals  said  by  the 
way:  "These  things  can  hardly  interest  our  young  friend 
Baroness  Martha;  we  should  only  speak  about  them  when 
we  are  alone.     Eh  !  fair  lady  ?  " 

I  defended  myself  from  this  and  begged  them  seriously 
to  continue  the  subject.  I  took  a  real  and  an  anxious  interest 
in  the  proceedings  of  the  military  and  diplomatic  world.  Not 
from  the  same  point  of  view  as  these  gentlemen,  but  it  was 
of  great  moment  to  me  to  follow  to  its  ultimate  conclusion 
"  the  Danish  question,"  whose  origin  and  course  I  had  studied 
so  carefully  during  the  war.  Now,  after  these  battles  and 
victories  the  fate  of  the  disputed  duchies  must  surely  be 
settled,  and  yet  the  questions  and  the  doubts  were  always 
going  on.  The  Augustenburg — that  famous  Augustenburg  on 
account  of  whose  immemorial  rights  all  the  contest  had  been 
lighted  up — was  he  then  installed  now?  Nothing  of  the  kind. 
Nay,  a  new  pretender  arrived  on  the  scene.  Gliicksburg  and 
Gottorp,  and  all  the  lines  and  branch  lines,  whatever  their 


174  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

names  were,  which  I  had  been  painfully  committing  to  memory, 
were  not  enough.  Now  Russia  stepped  in  and  opposed  to  the 
Augustenburg  an  O/denhurg  (  However,  the  result  of  the  war 
up  to  this  point  was  that  the  duchies  were  to  belong  neither 
to  a  Gliicks-  nor  to  an  Augusten-  nor  to  an  Olden-  nor  to 
any  other  -burg,  but  to  the  allied  victors.  The  following  I 
found  out  were  the  articles  of  the  conditions  of  peace  then  in 
progress : — 

1.  "Denmark  surrenders  the  duchies  to  Austria  and 
Prussia." 

I  was  pleased  with  that.  The  allies  would  now,  of  course, 
hasten  to  give  up  the  countries,  which  they  had  conquered  not 
for  themselves  but  for  another,  to  that  other. 

2.  "The  frontiers  will  be  accurately  defined." 

That  again  is  quite  right,  if  only  these  definitions  could  have 
a  little  more  stability ;  but  it  is  pitiable  even  to  see  what  ever 
lasting  shiftings  these  blue  and  green  lines  on  the  maps  have 
to  suffer  unceasingly. 

3.  "  The  public  debts  will  be  allocated  in  proportion  to  the 
populations." 

That  I  did  not  understand.  In  my  studies  I  had  not  got 
up  to  questions  of  political  economy  and  finance.  I  took 
interest  in  politics  only  so  far  as  they  bore  on  peace  and  war, 
for  this  was  the  vital  question  to  me  as  a  human  being  and  a 
wife. 

4.  "  The  duchies  bear  the  cost  of  the  war." 

That  again  was  to  some  extent  intelligible  to  me.  The 
country  had  been  devastated,  its  harvests  trampled  down,  its 
sons  massacred ;  some  reparation  was  due  to  it :  so  let  it  pay 
the  expenses  of  the  war. 

"And  what  news  is  there  about  Schleswig-Holstein  ? "  I 
myself  asked,  as  the  conversation  had  not  yet  been  brought 
into  the  field  of  politics. 

"The  latest  news  is,"  said  my  father,  "on  August  13  that  Herr 
V.  Beust  has  put  the  question  before  the  assembly  of  the  Bund, 
with  what  right  can  the  allies  accept  the  cession  of  the  duchies 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  175 

from  a  king  whom  the  Bund  has  never  recognised  as  theii 
lawful  possessor?" 

"That  is  truly  a  very  reasonable  objection,"  I  remarked, 
"  for  it  surely  means  that  the  Protocol-Prince  is  not  the  legiti- 
mate lord  of  German  soil,  and  now  you  accept  it  solemnly  from 
Christian  IX." 

"  You  don't  understand,  dear,"  interrupted  my  father.  "It  is 
only  an  impudence,  a  trick  of  this  Herr  v.  Beust,  nothing  else. 
The  duchies,  besides,  belong  to  us  already,  for  we  have  con- 
quered them." 

"But  surely  not  conquered  them  for  yourselves?  for  the 
Augustenburg." 

"That  again  you  do  not  understand.  The  reasons,  which 
before  the  outbreak  of  a  war  are  put  forward  by  the  cabinets  as 
the  motive  for  it,  retreat  into  the  background  as  soon  as  the 
battles  are  once  engaged.  Then  the  victories  and  defeats 
bring  out  quite  new  combinations;  then  kingdoms  diminish 
or  increase,  or  shape  themselves  in  relations  before 
unforeseen." 

"These  reasons  then  are  really  no  reasons,  but  only  pre- 
texts?" I  asked. 

"Pretexts?  no,"  said  one  of  the  generals,  coming  to  my 
father's  aid;  "motives  rather,  starting-points  for  the  events 
which  then  shape  themselves  according  to  the  scale  df  the 
results." 

"  If  /  had  had  to  speak,"  said  my  father,  "  I  would  really  not 
have  given  in  to  any  peace  negotiations  after  Duppel  and 
Alsen  ;  all  Denmark  might  have  been  conquered." 

"What  to  do  with  it?" 

"  Incorporate  it  in  the  German  Bund." 

"Why,  your  speciality  is  only  that  of  an  Austrian  patriot, 
dear  father.    What  business  is  it  of  yours  to  enlarge  Germany  ?  " 

"  Have  you  forgotten  that  the  Hapsburgs  were  German  em- 
perors, and  may  become  so  again  ?  " 

"  That  would  rejoice  you  ?  " 

"What  Austrian  would  it  not  fill  with  joy  and  pride?" 


176  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

"  But,"  remarked  Frederick,  "  suppose  the  other  great  powei 

of  Germany  cherishes  similar  dreams  ?  "  ^ 

My  father  laughed  outright. 

*'  What !  the  crown  of  the  Holy  Romano-German  Empire 
on  the  head  of  a  Protestant  kingling?  Are  you  in  your 
senses  ?  " 

**  Whether  now  or  at  another  time,"  said  Dr.  Bresser,  "  a 
quarrel  will  occur  between  the  two  powers  over  the  object  for 
which  they  have  fought  in  alliance.  To  conquer  the  Elbe  pro- 
vinces, that  was  a  trifle ;  but  what  to  do  with  them  ?  That  may 
yet  give  occasion  to  all  kinds  of  complications.  Every  war, 
however  it  may  turn  out,  inevitably  contains  within  itself  the 
germ  of  a  succeeding  war.  Very  naturally;  for  an  act  of 
violence  always  violates  some  right.  Sooner  or  later  this  right 
raises  its  claims,  and  the  new  conflict  breaks  out,  is  then  again 
brought  to  a  conclusion  by  force  pregnant  with  injustice,  and 
so  on,  ad  infinitum  ^^ 

A  few  days  later  a  fresh  event  occurred.  King  William  o( 
Prussia  paid  a  visit  to  the  emperor  at  Schonbrunn.  Extraordin- 
arily warm  reception,  embraces,  the  Prussian  Eagle  hoisted, 
Prussian  popular  hymns  played  by  all  the  military  bands,  triumph- 
ant huzzahs.  To  me  this  news  was  satisfactory,  for  by  it  the  evil 
prophecies  of  Dr.  Bresser  were  put  to  shame,  that  the  two 
powers  would  get  into  a  quarrel  with  each  other  over  the  coun- 
tries they  had  joined  in  liberating.  The  newspapers  also  gave 
expression  on  all  hands  to  this  consolatory  assurance. 

My  father  was  equally  pleased  with  the  friendly  news  from 
Schonbrunn.  Not,  however,  from  the  point  of  view  of  peace, 
but  of  war.  "  I  am  glad,"  he  said,  "  that  we  have  now  a  new 
ally.  In  alliance  with  Prussia  we  can,  just  as  easily  as  we  have 
conquered  the  Elbe  provinces,  get  Lombardy  back  again." 

"  Napoleon  III.  will  not  consent  to  that ;  and  Prussia  will 
certainly  not  be  willing  to  embroil  herself  with  him,"  one  of  the 
generals  said.  **  Besides,  it  is  a  bad  sign  that  Benedetti,  the 
bitterest  enemy  of  Austria,  is  now  ambassador  at  Berlin." 

"But  tell  me,  gentlemen,"  I  cried  out,  folding  my  handi 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  177 

together,  "why  do  not  all  the  civilised  states  in  Europe  form  an 
alliance?    That  surely  would  be  the  simplest  way." 

The  gentlemen  shrugged  their  shoulders,  smiled  in  a  superior 
fashion,  and  gave  me  no  answer.  I  had  plainly  given  utterance 
again  to  one  of  those  silly  things  which  "  the  ladies  "  are  in  the 
habit  of  saying,  when  they  venture  into  the,  to  them,  inaccessible 
region  of  the  higher  politics. 


The  autumn  had  come,  peace  was  signed  at  Vienna  on 
October  30,  and  with  it  had  come  the  time  when  my  darling 
wish,  Frederick's  retirement,  could  be  carried  out.  But  man  pro- 
poses, and  circumstances  master  him.  An  event  occurred — 
a  heavy  blow  for  me — which  brought  to  nothing  the  plans  we 
had  cherished  so  joyfully.  It  was  simply  this  :  the  house  of 
Schmidt  &  Sons  failed,  and  my  whole  private  fortune  was  gone. 

This  bankruptcy  was  also  a  sequel  of  the  war.  The  shot 
and  shells  shatter  not  only  the  walls  against  which  they  are 
aimed,  but,  through  this  destruction,  banking  houses  and  finan- 
cial companies  over  a  wide  area  fall  to  pieces  also. 

I  was  not  brought  thereby,  as  so  many  others  were,  to  beg- 
gary ;  for  my  father  would  not  let  me  want  for  anything.  But 
the  plan  of  retirement  had  to  be  quite  given  up.  We  were  no 
longer  independent  persons.  Frederick's  pay  was  now  our  sole 
substantial  resource.  Even  if  my  father  could  assure  me  a  suf- 
ficient allowance,  it  was  out  of  the  question  under  such  circum- 
stances that  Frederick  should  quit  the  service.  I  myself  could 
not  suggest  it  to  him.  What  sort  of  a  part  would  he  be  playing, 
in  the  eye  of  my  father  ? 

There  was  nothmg  to  do,  we  had  to  submit.  "  Destiny  "  in 
Aunt  Mary's  phrase.  1  have  not  much  to  tell  of  the  affliction 
which  this  great  pecuniary  loss  caused  me ;  it  was  a  question 
of  several  hundred  thousand  florins;  for  there  are  no  long 
entries  in  my  diary  about  it,  and  even  my  memory — which  has 
experienced  since  then  so  many  impressions  of  far  deeper  pain 
—bears  00  longer  any  very  lively  traces  of  these  incidents.     I 

la 


IfS  LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

only  know  that  I  was  chiefly  sorry  for  the  beautiful  castle  in 
the  air  which  we  had  been  building — retirement,  purchase  of 
an  estate,  a  life  independent  and  apart  from  the  so-called 
"  world  " — in  other  things  the  loss  did  not  hurt  me  so  much. 
For,  as  I  have  said,  my  father  would  during  his  life  not  allow 
me  to  want  for  anything,  and  would  afterwards  leave  me  a 
sufficiency,  and  my  son  Rudolf  was  sure  of  wealth  in  the  future. 
One  thing  comforted  me  :  there  was  not  the  slightest  prospect 
of  any  war ;  one  might  hope  for  ten  or  twenty  years  of  peace. 
Till  then 

Schleswig  -  Holstein  and  Lanenburg  were  finally  given 
over  by  the  treaty  of  October  30  to  the  free  disposition  of 
Prussia  and  Austria.  These  two,  now  the  best  of  friends,  were 
to  share  in  a  brotherly  way  the  advantages  so  accruing,  and  find 
no  cause  for  quarrelling  over  them.  Nowhere  on  the  whole 
political  horizon  was  there  any  "black  spot"  visible  to  one*i 
consideration.  The  shame  of  the  defeat  we  had  sustained  in 
Italy  was  sufficiently  atoned  by  the  military  glory  we  had  gained 
in  Schleswig- Holstein,  and  so  there  was  no  longer  any  occasion 
for  military  ambition  to  conjure  up  new  campaigns.  And  I  was 
also  pacified  with  the  following  consideration.  That  war  had 
come  so  short  a  time  since,  I  took  as  a  pledge  that  it  would  not 
be  very  soon  repeated.  Sunshine  follows  after  rain  and  in  the 
sunshine  one  forgets  the  rain.  Even  after  earthquakes  and 
eruptions  of  volcanoes  men  build  up  new  dwellings  again  and 
do  not  think  of  the  danger  of  a  repetition  of  the  past  catastrophe. 
A  chief  element  in  our  life's  energy  appears  to  reside  in  for- 
getfulness. 

We  took  up  our  winter  quarters  in  Vienna.  Frederick  had 
now  got  employment  in  the  Ministry  of  War,  a  business  which 
he  at  any  rate  preferred  to  barrack  life.  This  year  my  sisteis 
and  Aunt  Mary  had  gone  to  spend  the  carnival  at  Prague. 
That  Conrad's  regiment  was  then  quartered  in  the  Bohemian 
capital  was  perhaps  only  a  coincidence.  Or  could  this  circum- 
stance have  had  any  influence  on  their  choice  of  a  winter  resort  ? 
When  I  gave  a  hint  of  this  to  my  sister  Lilly  she  blushed  deeply 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  179 

and  answered  with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders :  '*  Why,  you  must 
know  that  I  do  not  want  him  ". 

My  father  repaired  to  his  old  dwelling  in  the  Herrengasse. 
He  proposed  to  us  that  we  should  settle  down  with  him  as  he 
had  room  enough  :  but  we  preferred  to  live  by  ourselves,  and 
hired  an  entresol  on  the  Franz  Joseph's  Quay.  My  husband's 
pay  and  the  monthly  allowance  made  me  by  my  father  amply 
sufficed  for  our  modest  housekeeping.  We  had  indeed  to 
renounce  subscriptions  to  opera-boxes,  court  balls — in  fact,  all 
going  into  "society".  But  how  easily  did  we  renounce  it!  It 
was  indeed  a  pleasure  to  us  that  my  pecuniary  losses  made 
this  quiet  way  of  life  necessary,  for  we  loved  a  quiet  way  of 
life. 

To  a  small  circle  of  relatives  and  friends  our  house  was 
always  open.  In  particular,  Lori  Griesbach,  the  friend  of  my 
youth,  often  visited  us — almost  more  often  than  I  liked.  Her 
talk,  which  had  before  appeared  to  me  sorely  superficial,  I  now 
found  so  insipid  as  to  be  quite  wearisome ;  and  her  intellectual 
horizon,  whose  narrowness  I  had  always  perceived,  seemed 
now  still  more  restricted.  But  she  was  pretty  and  lively  and 
coquettish.  I  understood  that  in  society  she  turned  many 
men's  heads,  and  it  was  said  that  she  had  no  objection  to  be 
made  love  to.  What  was  very  unpleasant  to  me  was  to  per- 
ceive that  Frederick  was  very  much  to  her  taste,  and  that  she 
shot  many  darts  out  of  her  eyes  at  him,  which  were  evidently 
intended  to  fix  themselves  in  his  heart.  Lori's  husband,  the 
ornament  of  the  Jockey  Club,  the  race-course,  and  the  coulisses^ 
was  well  known  to  be  so  little  true  to  her  that  a  slight  imitation 
on  her  side  would  not  have  deserved  too  strong  condemnation. 
But  that  Frederick  should  serve  as  the  medium  of  her  revenge — 
I  had  a  good  deal  to  say  against  that.  I  jealous  !  I  turned 
red  as  I  caught  myself  in  this  agitation.  I  was,  in  truth,  so  sure 
of  his  heart.  No  other  woman,  none  in  the  world,  could  he 
love  as  he  did  me.  Ah,  yes,  love^  but  a  little  blaze  of  flirtation  ? 
that  might  perhaps  have  flashed  up  by  the  side  of  the  soft  glow 
which  was  consecrated  to  me. 


l8o  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

Lori  did  not  in  any  way  conceal  from  me  how  much  Frede- 
rick attracted  her. 

"  I  say,  Martha  !  you  are  really  to  be  envied  to  have  such  a 
charming  husband,"  or  "  You  should  keep  a  good  look-out  on 
this  Frederick  of  yours,  for  all  the  women  I  know  are  running 
after  him  ". 

**  I  am  quite  certain  of  his  fidelity,"  I  replied  to  this. 

"  Don't  flatter  yourself;  to  think  of  *  fidelity '  and  *  husband ' 
being  coupled  together  I  That  is  impossible.  For  example, 
you  know  how  my  husband " 

"  Good  heavens  1  you  may  perhaps  have  been  wrongly  in- 
formed.    Besides,  surely  all  men  are  not  alike  1 " 

"Yes,  they  are — all — believe  me.  I  know  none  of  our 
gentlemen  who  do  not.  .  .  .  Among  those  who  pay  me 
attention  are  several  married  men.  And  what  is  their  object  ? . 
Certainly  not  to  give  me  or  themselves  exercises  in  fidelity  to 
marriage." 

"  I  suppose  they  know  you  will  not  listen  to  them.  And  do 
you  think  Frederick  belongs  to  this  crew?"  I  asked  with  a 
smile. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you,  you  little  goose.  But  for 
all  that  it  is  very  good  of  me  to  let  you  know  how  much  I  am 
struck  with  him.  Now,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  keep  your  eyes 
open." 

"  My  eyes  are  wide  open  already,  Lori,  and  they  have  before 
now  observed  with  displeasure  several  attempts  at  coquetry  on 
your  part." 

"  Oh,  that's  it !    Then  I  must  disguise  it  better  in  future." 

We  both  laughed,  but  I  still  felt  that  in  the  same  way  as 
behind  the  jealousy  which  I  pretended  for  fun  a  real  move- 
ment of  this  passion  lay  hid,  so  behind  the  chat  with  which  she 
affected  to  tease  me  there  lay  a  germ  of  truth. 

The  arrangement  to  marry  my  son  Rudolf  one  day  to  Lori's 
little  Beatrix  was  still  kept  intact.  It  was  of  course  more  in 
play  than  in  reality — the  main  question  whether  the  children's 
hearts  would  beat  for  each  other  could  only  be  decided  by  the 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  l8l 

future.  That  in  a  worldly  point  of  view  my  Rudolf  would  be 
a  most  eligible  match  was  certain,  and  so  much  the  more 
fastidious  might  he  be  in  choosing.  Beatrix  indeed  promised 
to  be  a  great  beauty,  but  if  she  took  after  her  mother  in 
coquetry  and  shallowness  of  mind  she  would  not  be  one  I 
should  desire  for  a  daughter-in-law.  But  all  that  was  in  the 
far  distance. 

I^ri's  husband  had  not  shared  in  the  Schleswig-Holstein 
campaign,  and  that  annoyed  him  much.  Lori  too  was  grieved 
St  this  "ill-luck". 

"  Such  a  nice  victorious  war,"  she  complained.  "  Griesbach 
would  have  been  sure  to  have  got  a  step  by  this  time.  How- 
ever, the  comfort  is  that  in  the  next  campaign -" 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  I  broke  in.  "  There  is  not  the 
least  prospect  of  that.  Do  you  know  any  cause  for  it  ?  What 
should  a  war  be  waged  about  now  ?  " 

"  What  for  ?  Really  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that.  Wars 
come — and  there  they  are.  Every  five  or  six  years  something 
breaks  out.     That  is  the  regular  course  of  history." 

"  But  surely  some  reasons  must  exist  for  it." 

"  Perhaps,  but  who  knows  what  they  are  ?  Certainly  I  don't, 
nor  my  husband  either.  I  asked  him  in  the  course  of  the  late 
war  *  What  is  the  exact  thing  they  are  fighting  about  down 
there  ?  '  *  I  don't  know,'  he  replied,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
Mt  is  all  the  same  to  me.  But  it  is  a  bore  that  I  am  not 
there,'  he  added.  Oh,  Griesbach  is  a  true  soldier.  The  '  why ' 
and  *  what  for '  of  the  wars  are  not  the  business  of  the  soldiers. 
The  diplomatists  settle  that  amongst  themselves.  I  never 
bothered  my  brains  about  all  these  political  squabbles.  It  is 
not  the  business  of  us  women  at  all — we  should  besides  under- 
stand nothing  of  it.  When  once  the  storm  has  broken  we  have 
only  to  pray " 

**That  it  may  strike  our  neighbours  and  not  ourselves — that 
is  certainly  the  most  simple  plan." 

•  •••••••* 

"  Dear  Madam, — A  friend — or  perhaps  an  enemy,  no  matter 


X8a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

— a  person  who  knows  but  wishes  to  remain  unknown — takes 
this  means  of  informing  you  that  you  are  being  betrayed. 
Your  husband,  so  seeming  virtuous,  and  your  friend  who  wants 
to  pass  for  an  innocent,  are  laughing  at  you  for  your  good- 
humoured  confidence — you  poor  bHnded  wife.  I  have  my  own 
reasons  for  wishing  to  tear  the  mask  off  both  their  faces.  It  is 
not  from  goodwill  to  you  that  I  so  act,  for  I  can  easily  imagine 
that  this  detection  of  two  persons  dear  to  you  may  bring  you 
more  pain  than  profit — but  I  have  no  goodwill  to  you  in 
my  heart.  Perhaps  I  am  a  rejected  adorer,  who  is  taking  his 
revenge  this  way.  What  matters  the  motive?  The  fact  is 
there,  and  if  you  wish  for  proofs  I  can  furnish  them  to  you. 
Besides,  without  proofs  you  would  give  no  credit  to  an  anony- 
mous letter.  The  accompanying  *  billet '  was  lost  by  Countess 
Gr " 

This  astounding  letter  lay  on  our  breakfast-table  one  fine 
spring  morning.  Frederick  was  sitting  opposite  to  me,  busied 
with  his  letters,  while  I  read  and  re-read  the  above  ten  times 
over.  The  note  which  accompanied  the  traitorous  epistle  was 
enclosed  in  an  envelope  of  its  own,  and  I  put  off  tearing  it 
open. 

I  looked  at  Frederick.  He  was  deep  in  a  morning  paper ; 
still  he  must  have  felt  the  look  which  I  fixed  on  him,  for  he 
let  the  newspaper  fall,  and  with  his  usual  kindly,  smiling 
expression,  turned  his  face  to  me. 

**  Hollo,  what  is  the  matter,  Martha  ?  Why  are  you  staring 
at  me  in  that  way  ?  *' 

**  I  wanted  to  know  whether  you  are  still  fond  of  me." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  for  a  long  time,"  he  said  jestingly.  "  Really  I 
have  never  been  able  to  bear  you." 

"  That  I  do  not  believe." 

**  But  now  I  begin  to  see But  you  are  quite  pale. 

Have  you  had  any  bad  news  ?  " 

I  hesitated.  Should  I  show  him  the  letter  ?  Should  I  first 
look  at  the  piece  of  evidence  which  I  held  in  my  hand  still 
unbroken?      The    thoughts  whirled  through   my   head — my 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMl.  I83 

Frederick,  my  all,  my  friend  and  husband,  him  whom  I  trusted 
and  loved — could  he  be  lost  to  me  ?  Unfaithful,  he  !  Oh,  it 
must  have  been  only  a  momentary  intoxication  of  the  senses — 
nothing  more.  Was  there  not  enough  indulgence  in  my  heart 
to  forgive  it,  to  forget  it,  to  regard  it  as  having  never  hap- 
pened ?  But  to  be  false  1  How  would  it  be,  if  his  heart,  too, 
had  turned  from  me ',  how,  if  he  preferred  the  seductive  Lori 
to  me? 

*'  Well,  do  speak.  You  seem  quite  to  have  lost  your  voice. 
Show  me  the  letter  which  has  so  shocked  you,"  and  he 
stretched   his  hand   out   for   it. 

"  There  it  is  for  you."  I  gave  him  the  letter  I  had  just  read 
— the  enclosure  I  kept  back.  He  glanced  over  the  informer's 
writing.  With  an  angry  curse,  he  crumpled  up  the  paper,  and 
sprang  from  his  seat. 

"  Infamous  I "  he  cried,  "  and  where  is  the  proof  he  speaks 
of?" 

"  Here,  not  opened.  Frederick,  say  one  word  only,  and  I 
throw  the  thing  into  the  fire.  I  do  not  want  to  see  any  proofs 
that  you  have  betrayed  me.'* 

"  Oh,  my  own  one  !  "  He  was  now  by  my  side,  and  em- 
braced me  closely.  "  My  treasure  !  Look  into  my  eyes.  Do 
you  doubt  me  ?  Proof  or  no  proof— is  my  word  enough  for 
you?" 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  and  threw  the  paper  into  the  fire. 

But  it  did  not  fall  into  the  flames,  but  remained  close 
to^  the  bars,  Frederick  jumped  up  to  get  it,  and  picked 
it  out. 

"No,  no!  we  must  not  destroy  that.  I  am  too  curious. 
We  will  look  at  it  together.  I  do  not  recollect  ever  writing 
anything  to  your  friend  which  could  lead  to  the  inference  of  a 
relation  which  does  not  exist." 

**  But  you  have  smitten  her,  Frederick.  You  have  only  to 
throw  your  handkerchief  to  her." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Come,  let  us  look  at  this  document. 
Right,  my  own  hand.     Oh,  look  here !     It  is  surely  the  two 


184  LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

lines  which  you  dictated  to  me  some  weeks  back,  when  you 
had  hurt  your  right  hand." 

"  My  Lori  I  come.  I  am  anxiously  expecting  you  to-day  at 
five  P.M.  Martha  (still  a  cripple)." 

"  The  finder  of  this  note  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of 
the  parenthesis.  This  is  really  a  funny  confusion.  Thank 
God  that  this  grand  proof  was  not  burned ;  now  my  innocence 
is  plain.     Or  have  you  still  any  suspicion  ?  " 

"No;  after  you  had  looked  in  my  face  I  had  no  more. 
Do  you  know,  Frederick,  I  should  have  been  very  unhappy, 
but  I  should  have  forgiven  you?  Lori  is  coquettish,  very  pretty. 
Tell  me,  has  not  she  made  advances  to  you  ?  You  shake  your 
head.  Well,  truly,  in  this  matter  you  have  not  only  the  right 
but  almost  the  duty  of  deceiving  even  me;  a  man  cannot 
betray  a  lady's  favour  whether  he  accepts  or  rejects  it." 

"  And  so  you  would  have  forgiven  me  a  false  step  ?  Are 
you  not  jealous  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  in  a  way  that  tears  my  heart.  If  I  think  of  you  at 
another's  feet ;  sipping  joy  from  another's  lips ;  grown  cold  to 
me ;  all  desire  dead — it  is  horrible  to  me.  Yet,  it  was  not  the 
death  of  your  love  that  I  feared.  Your  heart  would  under  no 
circumstances  turn  cold  to  me,  that  I  am  sure  of;  our  souls 
are  surely  so  interwoven  with  each  other.     But " 

"I  understand.  But  you  need  by  no  means  think  of  me 
that  my  feeUng  for  you  is  like  that  of  a  husband  after  the 
silver  wedding.  We  have  been  married  too  short  a  time 
for  that ;  so  long  as  the  fire  of  youth  glows  in  me  (for  indeed 
I  am  forty  years  old  already),  it  burns  for  you.  You  are  the 
only  woman  on  earth  to  me.  And  should  some  other  tempta- 
tion in  reality  again  assail  me,  my  will  is  quite  strong  enough 
to  keep  it  away  from  me.  The  happiness  which  is  contained 
in  the  consciousness  of  having  kept  one's  plighted  troth,  the 
proud  repose  of  conscience  with  which  a  man  can  say  of 
himself  that  he  has  kept  the  firmly-tied  bond  of  his  life  in 
every  respect  sacred — all  this  is  to  me  too  noble  to  allow  it  to 
be  destroyed  by  a  passing  intoxication  of  the  senses.     You 


LAY  DOWN  TOUR  AKlfl.  185 

have  besides  made  so  perfectly  happy  a  man  of  me,  my 
Martha,  that  I  am  raised  as  far  above  everything — above 
all  intoxication,  all  amusement,  all  pleasure — as  the  possessor 
of  ingots  of  gold  above  the  gain  of  copper  pieces." 

With  what  delight  did  such  words  as  these  sink  into  my 
heart!  I  was  expressly  thankful  to  the  anonyuious  letter- 
writer,  for  helping  me  to  this  delightful  scene.  And  I  trans- 
ferred every  word  into  my  red  book.  I  can  still  reproduce  the 
entry  here,  under  date  1/4/ 1865.  Ah,  how  far,  how  far  back 
is  all  that  I 

Frederick,  on  the  contrary,  was  highly  incensed  against  the 
slanderer.  He  swore  that  he  would  find  out  who  had  been 
guilty  of  the  composition,  so  as  to  punish  the  actor  as  he 
deserved.  I  found  out  the  same  day  what  the  origin  and 
aim  of  the  writing  was.  Its  result^  which  was  that  Frederick 
and  I  were  thenceforth  drawn  a  little  closer  together,  its 
originator  could  hardly  hove  foreseen. 

In  the  afternoon  I  went  to  my  friend  Lori  to  show  her  the 
letter.  I  wanted  to  let  her  know  that  she  had  an  enemy  by 
whom  she  was  falsely  exposed  to  suspicion,  and  I  wanted  to 
laugh  with  her  over  the  chance  that  my  dictated  note  had  been 
so  misconstrued. 

She  laughed  more  than  I  expected. 

"  So  you  were  shocked  at  the  letter  ?  * 

"  Yes,  mortally ;  and  yet  I  had  nearly  burned  the  enclosed 
note." 

"  Oh  I  then  the  whole  joke  would  have  missed  fire." 

"What  joke?" 

"You  would  have  believed  to  the  end  that  I  had  really 
betrayed  you.  Let  me  take  this  opportunity  to  make  you  a 
confession,  that  I  did  in  an  hour  of  delirium — it  was  after  the 
dinner  at  your  father's  at  which  I  sat  next  to  Tilling,  and  it 
was  because  I  had  drunk  too  much  champagne — that  I  did 
then,  so  to  say,  ofier  him  my  heart  on  a  salver." 

"And  he?" 

"  And  he  answered  me  very  much  to  th«  purpose,  that  he 


1 86  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

loved  you  above  all  other  things  and  was  firmly  resolved  to 
remain  true  to  you  to  death.  The  whole  joke  was  contrived 
to  teach  you  to  prize  this  phenomenon  better." 

"What  is  this  joke  that  you  keep  talking  of?'* 

"Why,  you  must  know,  inasmuch  as  the  letter  and  the 
envelope  come  from  me." 

"  From  you  ?     1  know  nothing  about  it." 

"Have  you  then  not  turned  the  enclosure  round?  See 
here— on  the  back  of  it  is  written  my  name  and  the  date — 
April  I.* 


CHAPTER  IX. 

• 

T^e  indefinite  approximation  of  two  loving  hearts, — A  serious 
illness. — Progress  of  Conrad's  suit  to  my  sister. — Aunt 
Mary's  letter. — First  rumours  of  war  with  Prussia. — 
Sequel  of  the  SchleswigHolstein  war, — The  pour-parlers 
and  negotiations  leading  to  the  Austro-Prussian  war. — 
Arguments  with  my  father  and  aunt  about  war. — New- 
year's  day,  1866. — Conrad  and  Lilly  engaged. — My  father's 
toast. —  War  visibly  approaching. — Hopes  and  fears. — 
Recriminations  and  reciprocal  provocations.  —  Prussia 
occupies  Holstein. — The  army  of  the  Bund  mobilised. — 
War  declared, — Manifestoes  of  the  sovereigns  and  generals. 

'*  Brought  nearer— ever  nearer !  I  have  found  out  that  this 
capacity  of  approximation  of  loving  hearts  belongs  to  the  class 
of  things  of  which  divisibility  is  an  example — things  which  have 
no  limits.  One  might  have  believed  that  a  particle  might 
have  become  so  small  already  that  nothing  smaller  could  be 
conceived,  and  yet  it  is  susceptible  of  division  into  two  halves ; 
and  so  one  might  think  that  two  hearts  might  be  already  so 
fused  together  that  a  more  intimate  union  could  not  be 
possible,  and  yet  some  external  influence  acts,  and  the  atoms — 
the  two  hearts — embrace  and  inter-penetrate  each  other  still 
more  firmly,  and  closer — ever  closer." 

This  was  the  effect  of  Lx)ri's  sufficiently  tasteless  April 
fooling;  and  such  was  the  effect  of  another  external  event 
which  happened  soon  after ;  viz.,  a  violent  nervous  fever  which 
attacked  me  and  laid  me  on  a  sick  bed  for  six  weeks.  It  was 
indeed  a  sad  event,  and   yet  how  fruitful   it  was    in    happy 

(187) 


l88  LAY    DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

recollections  for  me,  and  how  powerful  in  its  influence  on  the 
process  sketched  above — I  mean  the  "bringing  nearer  and 
nearer  "  of  two  so  closely  attached  hearts  ;  whether  it  was  the 
fear  of  losing  me  which  made  me  still  dearer  to  my  husband, 
or  whether  it  was  that  his  love  had  merely  become  more 
noticeable  to  me  by  his  behaviour  as  sick  nurse — in  short, 
during  this  nervous  fever  and  after  it  I  still  more  «nd  still  more 
surely  felt  that  I  was  beloved,  than  before. 

I  was  also  truly  afraid  of  dying — first,  because  it  would  have 
given  me  horrible  pain  to  lose  a  life  which  seemed  to  me  so 
rich  in  beauty  and  happiness,  and  to  leave  my  dear  ones : 
Frederick  with  whom  I  wished  so  much  to  grow  to  old  age, 
Rudolf  whom  I  wished  so  much  to  train  up  to  manhood ;  and 
secondly,  too,  not  in  respect  to  myself  but  with  regard  to 
Frederick,  the  thought  of  death  was  horrible  to  me  because 
I  knew  as  well  as  one  can  know  anything  that  the  pain  of 
laying  me  in  the  grave  would  be  to  the  bereaved  one  well-nigh 
intolerable.  No  !  No  !  People  who  are  happy,  and  people  who 
are  beloved  by  those  they  hold  dear,  cannot  feel  any  contempt  for 
Death.  The  chief  ingredient  in  the  latter  is  contempt  for  life. 
On  my  sick  bed,  where  sickness  buzzed  around  me  with  its 
deadly  power,  as  the  warrior  on  the  battlefield  hears  the  buzz 
of  the  bullets  around  him,  I  was  able  to  enter  perfectly  into 
the  feelings  of  those  soldiers  who  love  their  lives  and  who 
know  that  their  death  will  plunge  hearts  they  love  into  despair. 

**  There  is  but  one  thing,"  said  Frederick  in  reply  to  me 
when  I  communicated  this  thought  to  him,  "in  which  the 
soldier  has  the  advantage  of  the  fever-patient — the  conscious- 
ness of  duty  fulfilled.  Still  I  agree  with  you  in  this  :  to  die 
with  indifference,  to  die  with  joy,  as  we  are  on  all  hands  told  to 
do,  is  what  no  happy  man  can  do — only  those  could  who  were 
exposed  in  former  times  to  all  the  ills  of  life,  or  those  who 
have  nothing  left  to  lose  in  a  peaceful  existence,  or  such  as  can 
only  free  their  brethren  from  shame  and  an  intolerable  yoke  by 
their  own  death  1 " 

When  the  danger  was  over  how  I  enjoyed  my  recovery — my 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMI.  189 

new  birth  1  That  was  a  feast  for  both  of  us,  like  the  happiness 
of  our  re-union  after  the  Schleswig-Holstein  war,  but  still  dif- 
ferent Then  the  joy  came  with  a  single  stroke,  and  here  little 
by  little,  and,  besides,  since  that  time  we  were  closer  to  each 
other — ever  closer. 

My  father  had  visited  me  daily  during  my  illness,  and  shown 
much  concern  ;  but  for  all  that  I  knew  that  he  would  not  have 
taken  my  death  to  heart  overwhelmingly.  He  was  much  more 
attached  to  his  two  younger  daughters  than  to  me,  and  the 
dearest  of  all  to  him  was  Otto.  I  had  become  to  some  extent 
estranged  from  him  by  my  two  marriages,  and  particularly  by 
the  second,  and  perhaps  also  by  my  totally  different  way  of 
thinking.  When  I  was  completely  recovered,  which  was  in  the 
middle  of  June,  he  removed  to  Grumitz,  and  gave  me  a  warm 
invitation  to  come  to  him  there  with  my  httle  Rudolf.  But  I 
preferred,  since  Frederick  was  prevented  from  leaving  the  city 
by  his  duties,  to  take  my  country  holiday  quite  close  to  Vienna, 
where  my  husband  could  visit  me  daily,  and  so  I  hired  a  summer 
lodging  at  Hietzing. 

My  sisters,  still  under  Aunt  Mary's  protection,  travelled  to 
Marienbad.  In  her  last  letter  from  Prague,  Lilly  wrote  to  me 
as  follows,  amongst  other  matters :  "  I  must  confess  to  you  that 
Cousin  Conrad  begins  to  be  by  no  means  displeasing  to  me. 
During  several  cotillons  I  was  in  the  humour  to  have  said 
*  Yes  *  if  he  had  put  the  important  question.  But  he  omitted 
to  take  the  decisive  step  at  the  right  moment.  When  it  was 
settled  that  we  were  to  leave  the  city  he  did,  it  is  true,  make 
me  an  offer  again,  but  then  I  had  again  an  impulse  to  refuse. 
I  have  become  so  used  to  do  this  to  poor  Conrad  that  when  he 
used  the  accustomed  form  to  me  :  *  Will  you  not  now  become 
my  wife,  Lilly?'  my  tongue  replied  quite  automatically:  *I  have 
no  idea  of  doing  so '.  But  this  time  I  added  :  *  Ask  me  again 
in  six  months  '.  That  means  that  I  am  going  to  examine  my 
heart  during  the  summer.  If  I  long  after  him  in  his  absence, 
if  the  thought  of  him  (which  now  follows  me  almost  uninter- 
ruptedly day  and   night)   does  not  quit   me  when  I  am  at 


igO  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

Marienbad ;  if  neither  there  nor  in  the  ensuing  shooting  season 
any  other  man  succeeds  in  making  an  impression  on  me,  why, 
then,  the  perseverance  of  my  obstinate  cousin  will  have  pre- 
vailed." 

Aunt  Mary  wrote  to  me  about  the  same  time.  (This  hap- 
pens to  be  the  only  letter  of  hers  which  I  have  kept.) 

"  My  dear  child, — This  has  been  a  fatiguing  winter  campaign  ^ 
I  shall  be  not  a  little  glad  when  Rosa  and  Lilly  have  found 
partners.  Found  they  have,  plenty  of  them  ;  for,  as  you  know, 
each  has  refused  in  the  course  of  the  carnival  half-a-dozen  offers, 
not  counting  the  perennial  Conrad.  Now  the  same  drudgery 
is  to  begin  again  at  Marienbad.  I  should  like  to  have  gone  to 
Grumitz  to  spend  some  time,  above  all  things,  or  to  you ;  and 
instead  of  this  I  am  obliged  to  play  over  again  the  tiresome  and 
thankless  part  of  chaperon  to  these  pleasure-seeking  girls. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  quite  well  again.  Now 
that  the  danger  is  over,  I  may  say  that  we  were  in  great  trouble 
— your  husband  used  for  some  time  to  write  us  such  despairing 
letters — every  moment  he  was  in  fear  of  seeing  you  die.  But  let 
us  thank  God  that  it  was  not  destined  so  to  be.  The  novena 
which  I  kept  at  the  Ursulines  for  your  recovery  also,  perhaps, 
helped  to  preserve  you.  The  Almighty  designed  to  spare 
you  for  your  little  Rudi.  Kiss  the  dear  little  boy  and  tell  him 
to  keep  hard  at  his  learning.  I  send  him  with  this  a  couple  of 
little  books,  TJie  Pious  Child  and  his  Guardian  Angela  a  charm- 
ing story,  and  Our  Country's  Heroes,  a  collection  of  war-sketches 
for  boys.  A  taste  for  such  things  cannot  be  instilled  too  early 
into  the  young.  Your  brother  Otto,  for  instance,  was  not  five 
years  old  when  I  used  to  tell  him  about  Alexander  the  Great, 
and  Caesar,  and  other  famous  conquerors;  and  it  is  a  real 
pleasure  to  see  what  a  spirit  he  has  now  for  everything  heroic. 

"  I  have  heard  that  you  prefer  to  remain  for  the  summer  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Vienna,  instead  of  going  to  Grumitz. 
You  are  quite  wrong  there.  The  air  of  Grumitz  would  suit  you 
much  better  than  that  dusty  Hietzing ;  and  poor  papa  will  be 
quite  bored   all  alone.      Probably   it   is   on  your   husband's 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  IQI 

account  that  you  will  not  go  away ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
duty  of  a  daughter  also  should  not  be  quite  neglected.  Tilling^ 
too,  could  surely  come  to  Grumitz  for  a  day  sometimes.  To  be 
so  very  much  together  is  not  altogether  good  for  married  folks — 
trust  to  my  experience  of  life.  I  have  noticed  that  the  best 
marriages  are  those  in  which  the  couple  are  not  always  sitting 
prosing  together,  but  allow  each  other  a  little  latitude.  Now, 
good-bye ;  spare  yourself — so  as  not  to  get  a  relapse — and  think 
again  about  Hietzing.  May  heaven  preserve  you  and  your 
RudL     This  is  the  constant  prayer  of  your  affectionate 

"Aunt  Mary. 

"P.S. — Your  husband  has,  I  know,  relatives  in  Prussia  (hap- 
pily he  is  not  so  arrogant  as  his  countrymen),  so  ask  him  what 
they  are  saying  there  about  the  political  situation.  It  is  surely 
very  grave." 

This  letter  of  my  aunt  made  me  reflect  again  that  there  was 
a  "  political  situation  ".  During  all  this  time  I  had  not  troubled 
myself  about  anything  of  the  sort.  I  had,  it  is  true,  read  a  good 
deal  both  before  and  after  my  illness,  as  usual,  daily  and  weekly 
papers,  reviews  and  books,  but  the  leading  articles  in  the 
journals  remained  unnoticed,  since  I  no  longer  debated  with 
myself  the  anxious  question  :  "War  or  no  war?";  the  chatter 
about  home  and  foreign  politics  possessed  no  interest  for  me. 
The  postscript  of  the  letter  quoted  above  looked  serious,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  to  look  up  what  I  had  neglected  and  inform 
myself  about  our  present  position. 

"What  does  Aunt  Mary  mean  by  her  expression  'threatening'? 
you  least  arrogant  among  the  Prussians,"  I  asked  my  husband, 
as  I  gave  him  the  letter  to  read.  "  Is  there  then  a  political 
situation  at  the  present  time  ?  " 

"  There  is  one,  as  there  is  weather,  always — more's  the  pity 
— and  one  is  also  as  changeable  and  treacherous  as  the  other  ** 

•*  Well,  tell  me  then.  Are  they  talking  still  about  these  com- 
plicated duchies  ?     Have  they  not  done  with  them  yet  ?  " 

**  They  are  talking  about  them  more  than  ever.  They  have 
not  done  with  them  in  the  least.     The  Schleswig-Holsteiners 


ig%  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

have  now  a  great  fancy  to  get  free  of  the  Prussians—  the  *  arro 
gant*  Prussians  we  are  called  in  the  latest  form  of  speech. 
'Sooner  Danish  than  Prussian,*  say  they,  repeating  a  signal 
given  them  by  the  central  states.  Do  you  know  that  the 
hackneyed  *  Meerumschlungen '  song  •  is  now  sung  with  this 
variation : — 

"*Schleswig-Holstein  stammverwandt  Schmeisst  die  Preussen 
aus  dem  Land '  ?  "  * 

"  And  what  has  happened  to  the  Augustenburg  ?  Have  they 
got  him  then  ?  O  do  not  tell  me,  Frederick,  do  not  tell  me 
that  they  have  not  got  him  I  It  was  on  account  of  this,  the 
only  rightful  heir,  for  whom  the  poor  countries  oppressed  by 
the  Danes  were  longing  so,  that  the  whole  war  had  to  be  waged 
which  might  have  cost  me  you  /  Leave  me  then  at  least  the 
consolation  that  this  indispensable  Augustenburg  has  been 
reinstated  in  his  rights,  and  is  reigning  over  the  undivided 
duchies.  I  take  my  stand  on  this  word  *  undivided '.  It  is  an 
old  historical  right,  which  has  been  assured  to  them  for  several 
centuries,  and  the  foundation  of  which  I  had  trouble  enough 
in  investigating." 

"It  is  going  badly  with  your  historical  rights,  my  poor 
Martha,"  said  Frederick  laughing.  "  No  one  says  anything 
at  all  about  Augustenburg  now,  except  himself  in  his  protests 
and  manifestoes." 

From  this  time  I  began  again  to  look  into  the  political  com- 
plications, and  found  out  as  follows :  Absolutely  nothing  had 
really  been  settled  or  recognised,  in  spite  of  the  Protocol  signed 
at  the  time  of  the  Peace  of  Vienna.  Since  that,  the  Schleswig- 
Holstein  question  had  been  brought  into  all  sorts  of  stages, 
but  now  was  "  debated  "  more  than  ever.  The  Augustenburg 
and  the  Oldenburg  had  made  haste,  since  the  abdication  which 
had  taken  place  on  the  part  of  the  Gliicksburg,  to  make 
reclamation  before  the  assembly  of  the  Bund.  And  Lauenburg 
was  eagerly  desirous  to  be  incorporated  in  the  kingdom  of 

^  Schleswtg-Holstein,  brother-land,  kick  the  Prussians  out  of  thv 
country. 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  I93 

Prussia.  No  one  knov«s  exactly  what  the  allies  were  coinff  to 
try  to  do  with  the  conquered  provinces.  Each  of  these  two 
powers  attributed  to  the  other  a  design  of  overreaching  the 
other. 

*'  What  is  this  Prussia  up  to  now  ?  "  Such  was  the  question, 
indicating  mischief,  which  Austria,  the  central  states,  and  the 
duchies  kept  always  asking.  Napoleon  III.  advised  Prussia 
to  annex  the  duchies  up  to  North  Schleswig,  where  they  speak 
Danish,  but  Prussia  was  not  thinking  of  that  for  the  moment. 
At  last,  on  February  22,  1865,  her  claims  were  formulated  to 
this  effect :  Prussian  troops  to  remain  in  the  countries ;  the 
latter  to  put  their  defensive  forces  under  Prussian  leadership, 
with  the  exception  of  a  contingent  of  troops  of  the  Bund. 
The  harbour  of  Kiel  to  be  occupied.  Posts  and  telegraphs  to 
be  Prussian;  and  the  duchies  to  be  compelled  to  join  the 
Zollverein. 

Of  these  demands  our  Minister,  Mensdorf-Pouilly,  complained 
I  do  not  know  why.  And  stiil  turther  (agam,  I  have  no  idea  why— 
presumably  out  of  envy,  that  distinctive  feature  in  the  conduct  oi 
"external  relations"),  the  central  states  complained  also.  They 
vehemently  demanded  that  the  Augustenburg  should  with  all 
speed  be  at  once  inducted  into  the  government  of  the  duchies. 
Austria,  however,  had  something  to  say  also,  and  what  she  said 
was  this.  She  treated  the  Augustenburg  as  non-existent,  was 
willing  to  consent  to  the  possession  by  Prussia  of  the  Kiel 
harbour,  but  stood  out  against  the  right  of  recruiting  and  pres- 
sing sailors. 

And  so  the  quarrel  went  on  without  cessation.  Prussia 
declared  that  her  demands  were  made  only  in  the  interests  of 
Germany ;  that  she  did  not  wish  for  annexation ;  Augustenburg 
might  enter  on  his  inheritance  if  he  accepted  the  demands  laid 
down;  but  if  these  necessary  and  moderate  claims  were  not 
granted,  then  (with  voice  raised  to  the  pitch  of  threaten- 
ing) perhaps  she  would  be  compelled  to  demand  more. 
Against  this  menacing  voice  other  voices  were  raised  in  scorn, 
in   mockery,  in   pruvocaiion.      In  the  central  states  ana   in 

«3 


194  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Austria  public  opinion  became  daily  more  and  more  embit- 
tered against  Prussia  and  especially  against  Bismarck.  On  June 
27  the  central  states  accepted  a  motion  to  request  information 
from  the  Great  Powers ;  but,  as  giving  information  is  not  the 
habit  of  diplomacy  but  keeping  everything  snug  and  secret, 
the  Great  Powers  negotiated  in  private.  King  William  travelled 
to  Gastein,  the  Emperor  Francis  Joseph  to  Ischl,  Count  Blome 
flitted  hither  and  thither  between  them,  and  an  agreement  was 
arrived  at  on  certain  points :  the  occupation  was  to  be  half 
Austrian  and  half  Prussian.  Lauenburg,  according  to  her  own 
wish,  was  to  be  united  to  Prussia.  For  this  Austria  was  to 
receive  as  compensation  two  and  a  half  millions  of  thalers.  This 
last  result  was  not  calculated  to  inspire  me  with  patriotic  joy. 
What  good  could  this  insignificant  sum  do  to  the  thirty-six 
millions  of  Austrians  ?  even  if  it  was  to  be  divided  among  them, 
which  was  not  the  case.  Would  it  replace  the  hundreds  of 
thousands  which,  for  example,  I  had  lost  with  Schmidt  &  Sons  ? 
Or  still  more  the  losses  of  those  who  were  mourning  for  their 
dear  ones  ?  What  })leased  me  was  a  treaty  which  was  signed  at 
Gastein  on  August  14.  "  Treaty,*'  the  word  sounds  so  pro- 
mising of  peace.  It  was  not  till  afterwards  that  I  learned  that 
international  treaties  very  often  only  serve,  by  means  of  oppor- 
tune violations  of  them,  to  introduce  what  is  called  a  casus  belli. 
Then  it  is  only  necessary  for  one  party  to  charge  the  other  with 
"a  breach  of  treaty,"  and  immediately  the  swords  spring  out 
of  their  sheaths  with  all  the  appearance  of  a  defence  of  violated 
rights.  • 

Still  the  Gastein  treaty  brought  me  repose.  The  quarrel 
seemed  to  be  laid  aside.  General  Gablenz — handsome  Gablenz 
— for  whom  all  we  ladies  had  a  slight  penchant,  was  Stadtholder 
in  Holstein,  Manteuffel  in  Schleswig.  I  had  at  last  to  give  up 
my  favourite  security,  enacted  in  the  year  1460,  that  the 
countries  should  remain  together  for  ever  "  undivided ".  As 
far  as  concerned  my  Au^ustenburg,  for  whose  rights  I  had  with 
so  much  trouble  got  up  some  warmth,  it  haoDened  that  '•his 
prince  went  on  one  occasion  mco  nis  country  and  received  the 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  AJUCt.  IQS 

homage  of  his  adherents,  on  which  Manteuffel  signified  to  him 
that  if  he  ever  ventured  to  come  into  those  parts  again  without 
permission,  he  would  unquestionably  have  him  arrested.  Who- 
ever cannot  see  in  that  a  good  joke  of  Muse  Clio's  can  have  no 
comprehension  of  the  comicalities  of  history. 

In  spite  of  the  Gastein  treaty,  the  situation  would  not  calm 
down,  and  as  I  now,  being  alarmed  by  Aunt  Mary's  letter 
and  the  explanations  of  it  which  I  received,  resumed  the 
regular  perusal  of  the  political  leading  articles  and  collected 
intelligence  from  all  lides  about  the  opinions  which  gained 
currency,  I  was  in  a  position  to  follow  once  more  with  accuracy 
the  phases  of  the  varying  strife.  That  the  latter  would  lead  to 
a  war,  I  did  not  apprehend.  Such  legal  questions  would  have  to 
be  brought  to  an  issue  in  the  legal  way,  i.e,y  by  weighing  the 
claim  of  right  on  the  two  sides,  and  by  a  sentence  consequent 
on  this.  All  these  consultative  meetings  of  ministers  and 
assemblies,  these  negotiating  statesmen  and  monarchs  in  friendly 
intercourse,  would  surely  settle  the  debated  points  which  were 
in  themselves  so  trivial.  It  was  with  more  curiosity  than 
anxiety  that  I  followed  the  course  of  this  incident,  the  different 
stages  of  which  I  find  noted  in  my  red  volumes. 

October  i,  1865.  In  the  assembly  of  delegates  at  Frankfort  the  fol- 
lowing conclusions  were  accepted :  (i)  The  right  of  the  people  of 
Schleswig-Holstein  to  decide  on  their  own  destiny  remains  in  force. 
The  Gastein  treaty  is  rejected  by  the  nation  as  a  breach  of  right,  (2) 
All  representatives  of  the  people  are  to  refuse  all  taxes  and  expenses  to 
such  Governments  as  assert  the  policy  of  violence  hitherto  followed. 

October  15.  The  Prussian  crown-syndic  gave  his  judgment  on  the 
hereditary  rights  of  Prince  Augustenburg.  The  father  of  the  latter  had 
renounced  for  himself  and  his  posterity  his  succession  to  the  throne  for 
a  sum  of  one  and  a  half  million  of  specie  thalers.  The  duchies  were  sur- 
rendered in  the  treaty  of  Vienna — the  Augustenburg  had  no  claims  at 
all  upon  them. 

An  impudence — an  assumption — such  were  the  terms  applied 
to  this  speech  delivered  at  Berlin,  and  *'  the  arrogance  of 
Prussia  "  became  a  catchword.  "  We  must  protect  ourselves 
against  it,"  was  accepted  as  a  dogma  on  all  hands      "  King 


196  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

William  seems  disposed  to  play  the  part  of  a  German  Victor 
Emmanuel."  "  Austria's  secret  motive  is  to  reconquer  Silesia,** 
"  Prussia  is  paying  court  to  France,"  "  Austria  is  paying  court  to 
France,"  ^//a/fl//,  et patath,  as  the  French  say.  Tritsch  tratsch 
is  the  German  name  for  it,  and  it  does  not  go  on  more  busily  in 
the  coffee-house  coteries  of  country  towns  than  between  the 
Cabinets  of  Great  Powers. 

The  winter  brought  my  whole  family  back  to  Vienna.  Rosa 
and  Lilly  had  amused  themselves  very  much  in  the  Bohemian 
watering-places,  but  neither  was  engaged.  Conrad's  affairs 
were  in  an  excellent  way.  In  the  shooting  season  he  was  to 
come  to  Grumitz,  and,  although  at  this  crisis  the  decisive 
word  had  not  yet  been  spoken,  still  both  were  inwardly  con- 
vinced that  they  would  end  in  being  united. 

Neither  at  this  autumn  shooting  season  did  I  make  my 
appearance,  in  spite  of  my  father's  pressing  persuasions, 
Frederick  could  not  get  any  leave,  and  to  separate  from  him 
was  to  exist  in  such  sorrow  as  I  would  not  expose  myself  to 
without  necessity.  A  second  reason  for  not  passing  any  length 
of  time  at  my  father's  was  that  I  did  not  wish  to  expose 
my  little  Rudolf  to  his  grandfather's  influence,  whose  effort 
always  was  to  inspire  the  child  with  military  tastes.  The 
inclination  for  this  calling,  to  which  I  was  thoroughly  averse  as 
a  profession  for  my  son,  had  been  awakened  in  him  without 
this.  Probably  it  was  in  his  blood.  The  scion  of  a  long  race 
of  soldiers  must,  by  nature,  bring  warlike  instincts  into  the 
world  with  him.  In  the  works  on  natural  science,  whose  study 
we  were  now  pursuing  more  eagerly  than  ever,  I  had  learned 
about  the  power  of  heredity,  of  the  existence  of  so-called  "  con- 
genital instincts,"  which  are  nothing  but  the  impulse  to  put  in 
action  the  customs  handed  down  from  our  ancestors. 

On  the  boy's  birthday  his  grandfather  was  careful  to  bring 
him  again  a  sabre. 

"  But  you  know,  father,"  I  remonstrated,  "  that  my  son  will 
certainly  not  become  a  soldier,  and  I  must  really  beg  you 
^seriously ** 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  197 

"  What,  do  you  want  to  tie  him  to  his  mother's  apron-strings  ? 
I  hope  you  will  not  succeed  there.  Good  soldiers'  blood  is  no  liar. 
Let  the  fellow  only  grow  up,  and  he  will  soon  choose  his  pro- 
fession for  hims^f,  .  .  .  and  there  is  no  finer  one  than  that 
which  you  want  to  forbid  him." 

"Martha  is  frightened,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  who  was  present 
at  this  conversation,  "  of  exposing  her  only  son  to  danger,  but 
she  forgets  that  if  one  is  destined  to  die,  that  fate  will  overtake 
one  in  one's  bed  as  surely  as  in  battle " 

"Then,  suppose  100,000  men  to  have  fallen  in  a  war,  they 
would  all  have  been  killed  in  peace,  too  ?  " 

Aunt  Mary  was  not  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.  "  It  was  the 
destiny  of  these  100,000  to  die  in  war." 

"  But  if  men  had  the  sense  not  to  begin  any  war,"  I  suggested. 

"Oh  I  but  that  is  an  impossibility,"  cried  my  father,  and 
then  the  conversation  turned  again  into  a  controversy  such  as 
my  father  and  I  used  often  to  wage,  and  always  on  the  same 
lines.  On  the  one  side,  the  same  assertions  and  principles ; 
on  the  other,  the  same  counter  assertions  and  opposite  prin- 
ciples. There  is  nothing  to  which  the  fable  of  the  hydra  is  so 
apphcable  as  to  some  standing  difference  of  opinion.  No 
sooner  have  you  cut  one  head  off  the  argument,  and  settled 
yourself  to  send  the  second  the  same  way,  when,  lo  !  the  first 
has  grown  again.  Thus  my  father  had  one  or  two  favourite 
positions  in  favour  of  war  which  nothing  could  uproot : — 

1.  Wars  are  ordained  by  God  Himself — the  Lord  of  Hosts 
— see  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

2.  There  have  always  been  wars,  and  consequently  there 
always  will  be  wars. 

3.  Mankind,  without  this  occasional  decimation,  would 
increase  at  too  great  a  rate. 

4.  Continual  peace  relaxes,  effeminates,  produces — like 
stagnant  water — corruption;  especially  the  degeneration  of 
moralti 

5.  Wars  are  the  best  means  for  putting  in  practice  self-sacri* 
fice,  heroism — in  short,  the  firmer  elements  of  the  character. 


igS  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

6.  Men  will  always  contend.  Perfect  agreement  in  all  theii 
views  is  impossible;  divergent  interests  must  be  always  imping- 
ing on  each  other,  consequently  everlasting  peace  is  a 
contradiction  in  terms. 

None  of  these  positions — in  particular  none  of  the  "  conse- 
quentlies"  contained  in  them  —  could  be  kept  standing  if 
stoutly  attacked.  But  each  of  them  served  the  defender  as  a 
bulwark,  if  compelled  to  let  another  of  them  fall,  and  while 
thd  new  bulwark  was  being  reduced  to  ruins  he  had  been 
setting  the  old  one  up  again.  For  example,  if  the  champion 
of  war,  driven  into  a  corner,  has  to  confess  that  peace  is  more 
worthy  of  humanity,  more  rich  in  blessing,  more  favourable  to 
culture,  than  war,  he  says :  **  Oh,  yes ;  war  is  an  evil,  but  it  is 
inevitable  " ;  and  then  follow  Nos.  i  and  2.  Then  if  one  shows 
that  it  could  be  avoided  and  how — ^by  alliances  of  states, 
arbitration  courts  and  so  forth — then  comes  the  reply :  "  Oh, 
yes ;  war  could  be  avoided,  but  it  ought  not  *' ;  and  then  come 
in  Nos.  4  and  5.  Then  if  the  advocate  of  peace  upsets  these 
objections,  and  goes  on  to  prove  that  on  the  contrary  "war 
hardens  men  and  dehumanises  them  ".  "Oh,  yes;  I  allow  that,  but 
— *'  No.  3.  This  argument,  too,  is  overthrown,  for  it  is  admitted 
that  Nature  herself  will  see  that  "  the  trees  do  not  grow  up  to 
the  sky,"  and  wants  no  assistance  from  man  to  that  end.  This, 
again,  turns  out  not  to  be  the  result  which  the  possessor  of 
force  has  in  view  in  making  war.  Granted,  but  No.  i.  And  so 
there  is  no  end  to  the  debate.  The  advocate  of  war  is  always 
in  the  right ;  his  reasoning  moves  in  a  circle,  where  you  may 
always  follow,  but  can  never  catch  him.  "War  is  a  horrible  evil, 
but  it  must  exist.  I  grant  it  is  not  a  necessity,  but  it  is  a  great 
good."  This  want  of  consecutiveness,  of  logical  honesty,  all 
those  people  incur  who  defend  a  cause  on  principles  which  are 
not  axiomatic^  or  else  with  no  principles,  merely  from  instinct, 
and  to  that  end  will  make  use  of  all  such  phrases  or  common- 
places as  may  have  come  to  their  ears,  and  which  have  obtained 
currency,  in  the  maintenance  of  that  cause.  That  these  argu- 
ments do  not  proceed  from  the  same  points  of  view,  that 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  igg 

accordingly  they  not  only  do  not  support  each  other,  but  even 
do  directly  neutralise  each  other,  makes  no  matter  to  them. 
It  is  not  because  this  or  that  reasoning  has  originated  from 
their  own  reflections,  or  is  in  harmony  with  their  own  convic- 
tions, that  it  comes  into  their  train  of  argument ;  they  merely 
use  to  bolster  the  latter  up,  without  any  selection,  the  con- 
clusions which  others  have  thought  out. 

All  this  might  not  have  been  so  clear  to  me  at  that  time, 
when  I  was  disputing  with  my  father  on  the  topic  of  peace  and 
war ;  it  was  not  till  later  on  that  I  had  accustomed  myself  to 
follow  with  attention  the  movements  of  the  intellect  in  my  own 
and  other  people's  heads.  I  only  recollect  that  I  always  came 
away  from  these  discussions  in  the  highest  degree  fatigued  and 
excited,  and  I  now  see  that  this  fatigue  proceeded  from  this 
"pursuing  in  a  circle"  which  my  father's  way  of  argument 
necessitated.  The  conclusion  was,  however,  every  time  a 
compassionate  shrug  of  the  shoulders  on  his  part,  with  the 
words :  **  You  do  not  understand  that " ;  words  which,  as  he 
was  treating  of  military  matters,  sounded  certainly  very  well 
deserved  in  the  mouth  of  an  old  general  as  addressed  to  a 
young  lady. 

•  •         ' 

New- Year's  Day,  1866.  We  were  all  sitting,  with  our  punch 
and  New- Year's  cakes,  assembled  round  my  father's  table  when 
the  first  hour  of  this  eventful  year  struck.  It  was  a  cheerful 
feast.  We  celebrated  an  engagement  with  the  end  of  the  old 
year — Conrad  and  Lilly's.  As  the  hand  pointed  to  twelve,  and  a 
feu  de  joie  was  fired  in  the  street,  my  enterprising  cousin  threw 
his  arm  round  the  young  lady,  who  was  sitting  beside  him, 
pressed,  to  the  surprise  of  us  all,  a  kiss  on  her  lips,  and  then 
asked : — 

"Will  you  take  me  in '66?" 

"Yes,  I  will,"  she  replied,  "and  I  love  you,  Conrad." 

Then  followed  on  all  hands  a  clinking  of  glasses,  embracing, 
handshaking,  felicitations,  and  blessings  without  end. 

"The  health  of  the  lovers,"  "Long  live  Conrad  and  lilly," 


200  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

"  God  bless  your  union,  my  children,"  **  Heart-felt  congratula 
tions,  cousin,"  "  Happiness  to  you,  sister,"  and  so  on,  and  so 
on.  A  joyful  and  peaceful  frame  of  mind  took  possession  of  us 
all.  Perhaps  not  quite  free  of  envy  in  all,  for  as  Death  repre- 
sents the  most  mournful  and  most  lamentable  of  events,  so 
love — the  love  which  is  sanctioned  by  the  life-giving  union — is 
the  most  joyful  and  the  most  enviable.  I  indeed  could  detect 
no  trace  of  envy  in  myself,  for  the  happiness  which  had  only 
just  become  a  promise  to  the  new  bride  ^  had  long  since  been 
my  actual  and  firm  possession  ;  it  was  rather  a  feeling  of  doubt 
that  crept  over  me.  "  Such  perfect  bliss  as  was  prepared  for 
me  by  Frederick  can  hardly  fall  to  poor  Lilly's  lot.  Conrad  is, 
it  is  true,  a  very  amiable  man,  but  there  is  but  one  Frederick." 
My  father  brought  to  an  end  the  tumult  of  congratulations 
by  tapping  on  his  glass  with  the  signet  ring  on  his  little  finger 
and  rising  to  speak.  He  spoke  somewhat  to  this  eifect :  "  My 
dear  children  and  friends,  the  year  %6  begins  well.  To  me  it 
is  bringing  in  its  very  first  hour  the  fulfilment  of  a  cherished 
wish,  for  I  have  long  looked  forward  to  having  Conrad  for  my 
son-in-law.  Let  us  hope  that  this  prosperous  year  may  also 
bring  our  Rosa  under  the  yoke,  and  to  you,  Martha  and  Tilling, 
a  visit  from  the  stork.  To  you,  Doctor  Bresser,  may  it  bring 
many  patients,  though  this  as  far  as  I  see  hardly  goes  with  the 
many  wishes  for  good  health  that  we  have  all  been  exchanging ; 
and  to  you,  dear  Mary,  may  it  present  (that  is,  provided  that  it 
has  been  destined  for  you,  for  I  know  and  honour  your  fatalism) 
a  pitched  battle  or  a  plenary  indulgence,  or  whatever  it  is  that 
you  are  wishing  for.  You,  my  Otto,  may  it  endow  with  eminent 
*  distinction '  in  your  final  examination,  and  with  all  possible 
soldierly  virtues  and  acquirements,  so  that  you  may  one  day 
become  the  ornament  of  the  army  and  the  pride  of  your  old 
father.  And  to  the  latter  also  I  must  try  and  get  something 
good  to  come ;  and  since  he  is  one  who  knows  no  higher  wish 
than  for  the  good  and  the  glory  of  Austria,  I  hope  the  coming 
year  may  bring  some  great  conquest  to  the  country — Lombardy, 
*  Braut^  an  engaged  girl. 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  20I 

or — who  knows  ? — the  province  of  Silesia.  One  cannot  tell  to 
what  all  this  is  preliminary,  but  it  is  by  no  means  impossible 
that  we  may  take  back  again  from  the  insolent  Prussians  that 
country  which  was  stolen  from  the  great  Maria  Theresa." 

I  recollect  that  the  close  of  my  father's  toast  "  threw  a  chill " 
on  us.  Lombardy  and  Silesia  ! — truly  none  of  us  felt  any  press- 
ing need  for  them.  And  the  underlying  wish  for  "  war,"  /.^., 
fresh  lamentation,  more  death  pangs,  that  surely  did  not  accord 
with  the  tender  joyfulness  which  this  hour,  made  sacred  by  a 
new  bond  of  love,  had  awakened  in  our  hearts.  I  even  per- 
mitted myself  to  reply  : — 

"  No,  dear  father ;  to-day  is  the  New  Year  for  the  Italians 
and  Prussians  also,  so  we  will  not  wish  any  destruction  for 
them.  May  all  men  in  the  year  '66  and  in  the  years  that  are 
to  follow  grow  more  united  and  more  happy  ! " 

My  father  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You  enthusiast  I "  said 
he  pityingly. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Frederick  in  my  defence.  "The  wish 
expressed  by  Martha  has  no  taint  of  enthusiasm,  for  its  fulfilment 
is  assured  to  us  by  science.  Better  and  more  united  and  more 
happy  are  men  constantly  becoming,  from  the  beginning  of  all 
things  to  the  present  day,  but  so  imperceptibly,  so  slowly  that  a 
little  span  of  time,  like  a  year,  may  not  show  any  visible  pro- 
gress." 

"  If  you  believe  so  firmly  in  everlasting  progress,"  remarked 
my  father,  **  why  are  you  so  often  complaining  about  reaction — 
about  relapse  into  barbarism  ?  " 

"  Because  " — Frederick  took  out  a  pencil  and  drew  a  spiral 
on  a  sheet  of  paper — "because  the  march  of  civilisation  is 
something  like  this.  Does  not  this  line,  in  spite  of  its  occa- 
sional twist  backwards,  always  move  steadily  onwards?  The 
year  which  is  commencing  may,  it  is  true,  represent  a  twist, 
especially  if,  as  seems  likely,  another  war  is  going  to  be  waged. 
Anything  of  that  sort  pushes  culture  a  long  way  back  in  every 
aspect,  material  as  well  as  moral." 

"  You  are  not  talking  much  like  a  soldier,  my  dear  Tilling," 


a02  L4T  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

"  I  am  talking,  my  dear  father-in-law,  of  a  general  proposi- 
tion. My  view  about  this  may  be  true  or  false  ;  whether  it  is 
soldierly  or  not  is  another  question.  At  any  rate  truth  can  only 
be  in  any  matter  one  way.  If  a  thing  is  red,  should  one  man 
call  it  blue  on  principle,  because  he  wears  a  blue  uniform ;  and 
black,  if  he  wears  a  black  cowl  ?  '* 

"  A  what  ?  "  My  father  was  in  the  habit,  if  any  discussion 
did  not  go  quite  as  he  liked,  to  affect  a  little  difficulty  of  hear- 
ing. To  reply  to  such  a  "what"  by  repeating  the  whole 
sentence  was  what  few  people  had  the  patience  to  do,  and  the 
best  way  was  to  give  up  the  argument 

Afterwards,  the  same  night,  when  we  had  got  home,  I  put 
my  husband  under  examination. 

"  What  was  that  you  said  to  my  father  ?  That  there  was 
every  appearance  that  there  would  be  another  fight  this  year  ? 
I  will  not  have  you  go  into  another  war ;  I  will  not  have  it" 

"  What  is  the  use,  dear  Martha,  of  this  passionate  *I  will  not'? 
You  would  certainly  be  the  first  to  withdraw  it  in  face  of  the 
facts.  By  how  much  more  visibly  war  stands  at  the  gate,  by 
so  much  the  more  impossible  would  it  be  for  me  to  apply  for 
my  discharge.  Immediately  after  Schleswig-Holstein  it  might 
have  been  feasible." 

"Ah,  that  unlucky  Schmidt  &  Sons  I" 

"  But  now  when  new  clouds  are  gathering * 

"  Then  you  really  believe  that " 

"  I  believe  that  these  clouds  will  disperse  again.  The  two 
great  powers  will  not  tear  each  other  to  pieces  for  those 
northern  countries.  But  now  that  it  seems  threatening  again, 
retirement  would  have  a  cowardly  look.  You  must  see  that 
too?" 

I  was  obliged  to  be  guided  by  this  reasoning.  But  I  clung 
to  the  hopeful  phrase :  "  These  clouds  will  disperse  again  ". 

I  now  followed  with  anxiety  the  development  of  political 
events,  and  the  opinions  and  prophecies  about  them  that 
were  current  in  the  newspapers  and  public  speeches.  "Be 
prepared  1 "     "Be  prepared  I "  was  the  cry  now.     "  Prussia  is 


LAr    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  2O3 

silently  preparing."  "Austria  is  silently  preparing."  "The 
Prussians  assert  that  we  are  preparing,  and  it  is  not  true,  it  is 
they  who  are  preparing."  "You  lie."  "  No,  it  is  not  true  that 
we  are  preparing."  "If  they  prepare,  we  must  prepare  also. 
If  we  leave  off  our  preparations,  who  knows  if  they  will?" 
And  so  the  note  of  preparation  sounded  in  my  ear  in  all 
possible  variations. 

"  But  then  what  is  all  this  clang  of  arms  for,  if  one  is  not  to 
take  them  in  hand?"  I  asked,  to  which  my  father  answered  in 
the  old  phrase : — 

"  Si  vis  pacem^  para  bellum  ;  we,  that  is,  are  only  preparing 
out  of  precaution". 

"And  the  other  side ? " 

"  With  a  view  of  attacking  us." 

"  But  they  also  are  saying  that  their  action  is  only  a  precau- 
tion against  our  attack." 

"That  is  malice." 

"And  they  say  that  we  are  malicious." 

"  Oh,  they  say  that  only  as  a  pretext,  to  be  better  able  to 
make  their  preparations." 

So  again  an  endless  circle,  a  serpent  with  his  tail  in  his 
mouth,  whose  upper  and  lower  end  is  a  double  dishonesty.  It 
is  only  by  producing  an  impression  on  an  enemy,  who  desires 
war,  that  the  method  of  fighting  him  by  preparations  can  be 
effective  on  the  side  of  peace,  but  two  equal  powers,  both  de- 
sirous of  peace,  cannot  possibly  act  on  that  system,  unless  each 
is  firmly  persuaded  that  the  other  is  deceiving  him  with  hollow 
phrases.  And  this  persuasion  becomes  the  more  firm,  the  more 
one  knows  that  one  is  oneself  hiding  the  same  views  as  one 
charges  on  one's  adversary  under  similar  phrases.  It  is  not 
only  the  augurs,  the  diplomatists  also  know  well  enough  about 
each  other,  what  each  has  in  his  mind  behind  the  public  cere- 
monies and  modes  of  speech.  The  preparation  for  war 
lasted  on  both  sides  during  the  early  months  of  the  year. 
On  March  12  my  father  burst  into  my  room  radiant  with 
joy. 


204  J^Y   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS, 

"  Hurrah  ! "  he  shouted.     "  Good  news." 

"  Disarmament  ?"  I  asked  delighted. 

"What  for?  On  the  contrary,  this  is  the  good  news: 
Yesterday,  a  great  Council  of  War  was  held.  It  is  really 
splendid  what  an  armed  power  we  are  masters  of!  The 
arrogant  Prussians  had  best  take  care.  We  are  prepared  any 
hour  to  take  the  field  with  800,000  men  !  And  Benedek,  our 
best  strategist,  is  to  be  commander-in-chief  with  unlimited 
power.  I  say  this  to  you,  my  child,  in  confidence.  Silesia 
is  ours,  whenever  we  choose." 

"  Oh  God  !  Oh  God ! "  I  groaned,  "  must  this  scourge  come 
on  us  once  more  ?  Who — who  can  be  so  devoid  of  conscience 
as  from  ambition,  from  greed  of  territory " 

"  Calm  yourself,  we  are  not  so  ambitious,  nor  are  we  greedy 
of  territory.  What  we  desire  (that  is  to  say  not  I  exactly,  for 
to  me  it  would  be  quite  the  right  thing  to  get  our  own  Silesia 
back  again),  but  what  the  Government  desire  is  to  keep  peace : 
that  they  have  asserted  often  enough,  and  the  enormous 
strength  of  our  active  army,  as  it  comes  out  in  the  communi- 
cation yesterday  made  to  the  Council  of  War  by  the  emperor, 
will  inspire  all  other  powers  with  due  respect.  Prussia,  to 
begin  with,  will  certainly  sing  small,  and  leave  off  trying  to 
speak  in  a  commanding  tone.  Thank  God,  we  shall  have  our 
say  in  Schleswig-Holstein  too,  and  I  am  sure  we  shall  never 
endure  that  the  other  great  power  should  by  too  great  an 
extension  of  its  dominion  conquer  for  itself  a  preponderance 
in  Germany.  That  is  a  matter  which  touches  our  honour,  our 
'prestige'  as  the  French  call  it,  perhaps  our  existence,  but 
you  cannot  understand  it.  The  whole  affair  is  a  contest  for 
hegemony,  the  miserable  Schleswig  is  the  last  thing  in  it,  but 
this  splendid  Council  of  War  has  shown  plainly  which  takes  the 
first  place  and  which  is  to  dictate  conditions  to  the  other,  the 
successors  of  the  little  Electors  of  Brandenburg  or  those  of  the 
long  line  of  Romano-German  Emperors  I  I  consider  peace  as 
certain.  But  if  the  others  are  going  on  still  to  behave  them- 
selves in  an  impudent  and  arrogant  way,  and  so  to  make  w^r 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  205 

inevitable,  then  our  victory  is  assured,  and  with  it  conquests 
which  are  absolutely  incalculable.  It  were  to  be  wished  that 
it  would  break  out " 

"  Oh  yes !  and  you  do  wish  it  too,  father,  and  the  whole 
Council  of  War  seems  to  be  with  you  !  Then,  I\should  like  it 
better  if  you  said  it  out  plainly  !  Only  do  not  let  us  have  this 
falsehood — this  assurance  to  the  people  and  the  friends  of  peace 
that  all  this  purchasing  of  weapons  and  demands  for  war- 
credits  are  only  for  the  purpose  of  your  beloved  peace.  If  you 
are  ahready  showing  your  teeth  and  closing  your  fists,  do  not 
whisper  soft  words  all  the  while.  If  you  are  trembling  with 
impatience  to  draw  the  sword,  do  not  make  beHeve  that  it  is 
only  from  precaution  that  you  are  laying  your  hand  on  the 
hilt." 

So  I  went  on  talking  for  a  while  with  trembling  voice 
and  rising  passion,  while  my  father  was  too  much  taken 
aback  to  answer  a  word,  and  at  last  I  ended  by  bursting  into 
tears. 

Now  followed  a  time  of  fluctuating  hopes  and  fears.  To-day 
it  was  "  Peace  is  secure,"  to-morrow  "War  inevitable".  Most 
persons  were  of  the  latter  view.  Not  so  much  because  the 
situation  pointed  to  a  bloody  arbitrament,  but  on  this  account, 
that  if  once  the  word  "  war  "  has  been  pronounced  there  may 
be  a  good  deal  of  debating  one  way  and  the  other,  but  experi- 
ence shows  that  the  end  always  is  war.  The  little  invisible  egg 
which  contains  the  casus  belli  is  brooded  over  so  long  that 
at  last  the  monster  creeps  out  of  it. 

Daily  did  I  note  in  the  red  volumes  the  phases  of  the  vary- 
ing strife,  and  thus  I  knew  at  that  time,  and  still  know  to-day, 
how  the  eventful  "  war  of  '66  "  was  prepared  and  how  it  broke 
out.  Without  these  entries  I  might  easily  find  myself  in  the 
same  ignorance  about  this  precise  piece  of  history  as  most 
men  are  who  live  where  history  is  being  played  out.  The 
great  majority  of  the  people  usually  know  nothing  about  why 
or  how  a  war  exists.  They  only  see  it  coming  for  a  certain 
time,  and  then  it  is  there.    And  when  it  is  there  people  make 


2o6  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

no  more  inquiries  about  the  petty  interests  and  differences  of 
opinion  which  brought  it  about,  but  are  then  only  busied  with 
the  mighty  events  to  which  its  progress  gives  birth.  And  when 
it  is  over  at  last,  what  one  remembers  chiefly  are  the  terrors 
and  losses  we  have  personally  experienced,  the  conquests  and 
triumphs  that  have  marked  its  course,  but  on  the  political 
grounds  for  its  origin  no  one  wastes  a  thought.  In  the  many 
works  of  history  which  appear  after  every  campaign  under  the 
title  of  "  The  war  of  the  year  so  and  so  historically  and  strate- 
gically described,"  or  something  to  that  effect,  all  the  old 
motives  for  the  strife  and  all  the  tactical  movements  of  the 
campaign  in  question  are  recounted,  and  any  one  who  takes 
an  interest  in  such  things  can  pick  out  the  explanation  from 
the  literature  in  which  it  is  wrapped  up,  but  in  the  remembrance 
of  the  people  such  histories  certainly  do  not  live.  Even  of  the 
feelings  of  hatred  and  enthusiasm,  of  embitterment  and  hope 
of  victory,  with  which  the  whole  population  greets  the  com- 
mencement of  the  war — feelings  expressed  in  the  common 
saying :  "  This  is  a  very  popular  war  " — even  of  these  feelings 
all  is  wiped  out  after  a  year  or  two. 

On  March  24  Prussia  issued  a  circular  note  in  which  she 
complained  of  the  threatening  preparations  of  Austria.  Then 
why  do  we  not  disarm,  if  we  do  not  wish  to  threaten  ?  Why, 
how  can  we?  For  on  March  28  you  see  it  is  enacted  on 
the  side  of  Prussia  that  the  fortresses  in  Silesia  and  two 
corps  d^armie  are  to  be  put  on  a  war  footing. 

March  31.  Thank  God!  Austria  declares  that  all  the 
rumours  in  circulation  about  her  secret  preparations  are  false. 
It  has  never  even  entered  into  her  head  to  attack  Prussia.  And 
on  this  she  founds  the  demand  that  Prussia  shall  suspend  her 
measures  of  warlike  preparation.  Prussia  replies  that  she  has 
not  the  remotest  idea  of  attacking  Austria,  but  that  it  has 
become  compulsory,  in  consequence  of  the  late  preparations, 
to  be  prepared  for  attack. 

And  so  the  responsive  song  of  the  two  voices  goes  on  with 
out  pause : — 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARlfl.  -:^a07 

My  preparations  are  defensive. 

Your  preparations  are  offensive. 
I  must  prepare  because  you  are  preparing. 
I  am  preparing  because  you  prepare. 
Then  let  us  prepare, 
Yes,  let  us  go  on  preparing. 

The  newspapers  give  the  orchestral  accompaniments  to  this 
duet  The  leading  articles  revel  in  what  is  called  conjectural 
politics.  It  was  all  poking  up,  baiting,  bragging,  slandering. 
Historical  works  on  the  Seven  Years'  War  were  published  with 
the  avowed  intention  of  renewing  the  old  enmity. 

Meanwhile  the  exchange  of  notes  went  on.  In  that  of  April 
7  Austria  again  officially  denied  her  preparations,  but  laid  stress 
on  an  oral  expression  said  to  have  been  used  by  Bismarck 
to  Count  Carolyi  that  "it  would  be  easy  to  disregard  the 
Gastein  treaty".  Must,  then,  the  destiny  of  nations  depend 
on  anything  that  two  noble  diplomatists  may  have  said  to  one 
another,  in  a  more  or  less  good  humour,  about  treaties  ?  And 
what  kind  of  treaties  can  those  be  after  all,  whose  contents 
remain  dependent  on  the  good-will  of  the  contracting  parties, 
and  are  not  assured  by  any  higher  Court  of  Arbitration  ? 

Prussia  answered  this  note  on  April  15,  that  the  charge  was 
untrue ;  but  she  was  obliged  to  persist  in  asserting  that  Austria 
had  really  made  preparations  on  the  frontier ;  and  on  this  she 
founded  the  justification  of  her  own  preparations.  If  Austria 
were  in  earnest  about  not  attacking  she  would  first  disarm. 

To  this  the  Vienna  Cabinet  replied :  "  We  will  disarm  on  the 
25th  of  this  month,  if  Prussia  promises  to  do  the  same  on  the 
following  day  ". 

Prussia  declared  herself  ready. 

What  a  breathing  again  !  So  then,  in  spite  of  all  threatening 
signs,  peace  will  be  preserved  I  I  noted  this  change  joyfully  in 
the  red  book. 

But  prematurely.  New  complications  arose.  Austria  i^  de- 
clared that  she  could  only  disarm  in   the  north,  but  not  in  the 


2o8  LAY  DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

south  at   the  same  time,    since  she  was  threatened  in  that 
quarter  by  Italy. 

To  which  Prussia  reph'ed  :  "  If  Austria  does  not  disarm  alto- 
gethevy  we  shall  also  remain  in  a  state  of  preparation  ". 

Now  Italy  expressed  herself  to  the  effect  that  it  had  never,  in 
the  faintest  way,  entered  into  her  mind  to  attack  Austria,  but 
that  after  this  last  declaration  she  was  under  the  necessity  of  at 
least  making  counter  preparations. 

And  so  this  charming  song  of  defence  was  now  sung  by 
three  voices. 

I  allowed  myself  to  be  again  in  a  measure  lulled  to  sleep  by 
this  melody.  After  such  loud  and  repeated  protestations, 
neither  surely  can  attack,  and  unless  one  of  them  attack,  there 
can  be  no  war.  The  principle  that  it  is  only  defensive  wars 
that  can  be  justified  has  now  taken  such  firm  possession  of  the 
public  conscience  that  surely  no  Government  can  any  more 
undertake  an  invasion  of  a  neighbouring  country ;  and  if  none 
but  mere  defensive  troops  are  ranged  opposite  each  other, 
however  threatening  their  armies  are,  however  determined  they 
may  be  to  defend  themselves  to  the  knife,  still  they  cannot 
actually  break  the  peace. 

What  a  delusion!  Beside  "the  offensive'*  there  are,  I 
find,  many  other  ways  of  commencing  hostilities.  There 
are  demands  and  interventions  regarding  some  small  third 
country,  and  which  have  to  be  resisted  as  unfair ;  there  are  old 
treaties  which  are  declared  to  be  violated,  and  for  the  uphold- 
ing of  which  recourse  must  be  had  to  arms ;  and,  finally,  there 
is  "the  European  equilibrium,"  which  would  be  endangered 
by  the  acquisition  of  power  by  one  state  or  the  other.  And 
so  energetic  steps  are  demanded  to  prevent  such  acquisition. 
It  is  not  avowed ;  but  one  of  the  most  violent  impulses  to  fight 
is  the  hate  which  has  long  been  stirred  up,  and  which  at  last 
presses  on  to  the  death-dealing  combat,  as  ardently  and  with 
the  same  natural  force  as  long-cherished  love  to  the  life-giving 
embrace. 

Events  now  began  to  tread  on  each  other's  heels.     Austria 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  209 

declared  for  the  Augustenburg  so  decisively  that  Prussia  charac- 
terised it  as  a  breach  of  the  Gastein  treaty,  and  discovered  in 
that  a  plainly  hostile  intention ;  the  consequence  of  which 
was  that  the  preparations  on  both  sides  were  carried  to  their 
highest  point.  And  now  Saxony  also  began  to  do  the  same. 
The  excitement  was  universal,  and  became  more  violent  every 
day.  "  War  in  sight,  war  in  sight,"  was  the  announcement  of 
every  newspaper  and  every  speech.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  at  sea 
and  a  storm  approaching. 

The  most  hated  and  most  reviled  man  in  Europe  then  was 
called  Bismarck.  On  May  7  an  attempt  was  made  to  assassi- 
nate him.  Did  Blind,  the  perpetrator  of  the  deed,  wish  to 
avert  this  storm  ?    And  would  he  have  averted  it  ? 

I  received  letters  from  Prussia  from  Aunt  Cornelia,  from 
which  it  seemed  that  in  that  country  the  war  was  anything  bul 
desired.  While  with  us  there  prevailed  universal  enthusiasm 
for  the  idea  of  a  war  with  Prussia,  and  we  looked  with  pride  on 
our  "million  of  picked  soldiers,"  inward  contention  reigned 
there.  Bismarck  was  no  less  reviled  and  slandered  in  his  own 
country  than  in  ours;  the  report  went  that  the  I^ndwehr 
would  refuse  to  go  out  to  the  "  fraternal  war,"  and  it  was  said 
that  Queen  Augusta  threw  herself  at  her  husband's  feet  to  pray 
for  peace.  Oh  !  how  glad  should  I  have  been  to  kneel  at  her 
side,  and  how  gladly  would  I  have  hurried  off  all  my  sister- 
women — yes,  all — to  do  the  same.  It  is  this,  and  this  alone, 
that  should  be  the  effort  of  all  ^omen :  "  Peace,  peace.  Lay 
down  your  arms." 

If  our  beautiful  empress  had  also  thrown  herself  at  her 
husband's  feet,  and  with  tears  and  lifted  hands  had  begged  for 
disarmament— who  knows?  Perhaps  she  did — perhaps  the 
emperor  himself  also  wished  to  preserve  peace,  but  the  pres- 
sure proceeding  from  the  councils,  and  the  speakers,  and  the 
shouting  and  the  writing  was  such  as  no  one  man — even  on  the 
throne — could  stand  against. 


2IO  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

On  June  i  Prussia  declared  to  the  assembly  of  the  Bund  that 
she  would  at  once  disarm  if  Austria  and  Saxony  set  the  example. 
Against  that  came  a  direct  accusation  from  Vienna  that  Prussia 
had  for  a  long  time  been  planning,  in  concert  with  Italy,  an 
attack  on  Austria,  and  on  that  account  the  latter  now  desired 
to  call  the  whole  Bund  to  arms,  in  order  to  request  it  to 
undertake  the  decision  of  the  case  of  the  duchies.  She 
desired  at  the  same  time  to  call  the  Estates  of  Holstein  to 
co-operate. 

Against  this  declaration  Prussia  lodged  a  protest — inasmuch 
as  it  overturned  the  Gastein  treaty.  That  being  so  the  position 
reverted  to  the  Vienna  treaty,  />.,  to  the  common  condo- 
minium. The  consequence  was  that  Prussia  had  also  the  right 
to  occupy  Holstein — as  on  her  side  Austria  was  permitted  to 
occupy  Schleswig.  And  the  Prussians  at  once  moved  into 
Holstein.  Gablenz  withdrew  without  sword  drawn,  but  under 
protest. 

Bismarck  had  previously  said  in  a  circular  letter :  **  We  have 
found  no  disposition  at  all  to  meet  us  at  Vienna.  On  the  con- 
trary, expressions  have  fallen  from  Austrian  statesmen  and 
councillors  of  the  emperor  which  have  reached  the  ear  of  the 
king  from  authentic  sources  {tritsch  tratsch),  and  which  prove 
that  the  ministers  wish  for  war  at  any  price  (to  wish  for  public 
slaughter,  what  a  fearful  accusation  !),  partly  because  they  hope 
for  success  in  the  field,  partly  ta  get  free  of  internal  difficulties, 
and  to  eke  out  their  own  shattered  finances  by  contributions 
from  Prussia  (statecraft)." 

The  Press  was  now  completely  warlike,  and  of  course  (as  the 
patriotic  custom  is)  sure  of  victory.  The  possibility  of  defeat 
must  be  entirely  left  out  of  view  by  every  loyal  subject  whom  his 
prince  summons  to  the  battle.  Numerous  leading  articles 
pictured  Benedek's  entry  into  Berlin,  and  also  the  sack  of  that 
city  by  the  Croats.  Some  even  recommended  to  raze  the 
capital  of  Prussia  to  the  ground.  **  Sack,"  "  raze  to  the 
ground,"  "ride  over  spurs  in  blood" — these  are  expressions 
which  do  not  indeed  any  longer  express  the  popular  conception 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  211 

in  modern  times  of  what  is  right ;  but  they  have,  since  the  days 
of  our  school-studies  of  the  ancient  histories  of  war,  been 
always  clinging  to  people ;  and  they  have  been  so  often  recited 
in  the  histories  of  battles  learned  by  heart,  so  often  written 
down  in  our  essays  in  German,  that  if  a  man  has  to  write  an 
article  on  the  subject  of  war  in  a  newspaper,  such  expressions 
drop  from  his  pen  spontaneously.  Contempt  for  the  enemy 
cannot  be  too  strongly  expressed — for  the  Prussian  troops 
the  Vienna  newspapers  had  no  other  term  than  "  the  tailors  ". 
Adjutant-General  Count  Grunne  expressed  himself  thus :  "  We 
shall  chase  off  these  Prussians  with  a  flea  in  their  ear  ".  That 
is  the  kind  of  way  to  make  a  war  quite  "popular".  That  sort 
of  thing  strengthen?  the  national  confidence. 

June  II.  Austria  proposes  that  the  Bund  shall  take  action 
against  Prussia's  helping  herself  in  Holstein,  and  mobilise  the 
whole  army  of  the  Bund.  On  June  14  this  proposition  is 
put  to  the  vote,  and  by  nine  votes  to  six — accepted !  Oh  1 
those  three  votes !  How  much  grief  and  how  many  shrieks  of 
pain  have  made  groaning  echo  to  those  three  voices ! 

It  is  done — the  ambassadors  have  received  their  dismissal. 
On  the  1 6th  the  Bund  requested  Austria  and  Bavaria  to  go  to 
the  assistance  of  the  Hanoverians  and  Saxons,  who  were  already 
attacked  by  Prussia. 

On  the  1 8th  the  Prussian  war  manifesto  appeared,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  manifesto  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  to  his 
people,  and  the  proclamation  of  Benedek  to  his  troops.  On 
the  22nd  Prince  Frederick  Charles  pubhshed  his  orders  to 
his  army,  and  thus  commenced  the  war.  I  copied  the  four 
originab  documents  at  the  time.     Here  they  are : — 

King  William  says ; — 

Anstria  will  not  forget  that  her  princes  were  once  the  rulers  of 
Germany,  and  will  not  regard  modern  Prussia  as  a  co-partner,  but  only 
as  a  hostile  rival.  Prussia,  it  is  held,  must  be  opposed  in  all  her 
efforts,  because  whatever  profits  Prussia  injures  Austria.  The  old 
unblessed  jealousy  has  again  burst  out  into  a  fierce  flame.  Prussia  is  to 
be  weakened,  destroyed,  disinherited.    With  her  no  treaties  are  to  be  any 


212  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

longer  in  force.  Wherever  we  look  in  Germany  we  are  surrounded  by 
foes,  and  their  war-cry  is  "  Humiliation  for  Prussia  '*.  Up  to  the  last 
moment  I  have  sought  for  and  kept  open  the  way  to  a  friendly  solution. 
Austria  refused. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Emperor  Francis  Joseph  expresses 
himself  thus : — 

The  latest  events  prove  incontestably  that  Prussia  is  now  setting 
open  force  in  the  place  of  right.  Thus  has  the  most  impious  of  wars— 
a  war  of  Germans  against  Germans — become  inevitable.  To  answer  for 
.  all  the  misery  it  will  bring  on  individuals,  families,  neighbours  and  dis. 
tricts,  I  summon  those  who  have  brought  it  about  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  history,  and  of  the  Eternal  and  Almighty  God. 

"  The  Opposite  party  "  is  always  the  one  that  wishes  for  war. 
The  "  opposite  party  "  are  always  charged  with  setting  up  force  in 
the  place  of  right.  Why,  then,  is  it  anyhow  possible,  consistently 
with  public  law,  that  this  can  happen  ?  An  **  impious  "  war, 
because  it  is  one  of  "Germans  against  Germans".  Quite  true. 
The  point  of  view  is  a  higher  one,  which,  beyond  "  Prussia  " 
and  "  Austria,"  raises  the  wider  conception  of  Germany.  But 
take  one  step  more  and  we  shall  reach  that  still  higher  unity 
in  the  light  of  which  every  war— men  against  men,  especially 
civilised  men  against  civilised — will  necessarily  appear  an  im- 
pious fratricide.  And  to  **  summon  before  the  judgment-seat 
of  history  " — what  is  the  use  of  that  ?  History,  as  it  has  been 
managed  hitherto,  has  never  pronounced  any  other  judgment 
than  a  worship  of  success.  When  any  one  comes  out  of  a  war 
as  conqueror  the  guild  of  historical  scribblers  fall  in  the  dust 
before  him,  and  praise  him  as  the  fulfiller  of  his  "mission 
of  educative  culture*'.  And  ** before  the  judgment-seat  of 
Almighty  God  ".  Yes ;  but  is  not  this  He  who  is  represented  as 
the  producer  of  the  fights,  is  not  the  same  almighty,  irresistible 
will  equally  concerned  with  the  outbreak  as  with  the  course  of 
the  war  ?  Oh,  contradiction  on  contradiction  !  And  this  is 
what  must  certainly  take  place  always,  whenever  the  truth  is 
hidden  under  hypocritical  phrases — when  an  attempt  is  made 
to  hold  equally  holy  two  principles  which  are  mutually  destruo 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  213 

tive,  such  as  war  and  justice,  T  national  hatred  and  humanity^ 
or  the  God  of  Lx)ve  and  the  God  of  Battles. 
And  Benedek  says : — 

We  are  standing  opposed  to  a  war  power  which  is  composed  of  two 
halves — Line  and  Landwehr.  The  first  is  formed  exclusively  of  young 
fellows  who  are  not  accustomed  either  to  fatigue  or  privation,  who  have 
never  taken  part  in  any  considerable  campaign.  The  second  consists  of 
untrustworthy,  discontented  elements,  who  would  like  better  to  overthrow 
their  own  Government,  which  they  dislike,  than  to  have  to  fight  us.  The 
enemy  has  also,  in  consequence  of  the  long  period  of  peace,  not  a  soli- 
tary general  who  has  had  the  opportunity  of  educating  himself  on  the 
field  of  battle.  Veterans  of  Mincio  and  Palestro,  you  will,  I  think, 
count  it  as  a  special  point  of  honour,  acting  under  your  old  and  tried 
leaders,  not  to  yield  to  such  antagonists  even  the  smallest  advantage. 
The  enemy  has  for  a  long  time  been  pluming  himself  upon  his  quick- 
firing  needle  gun  ;  but  I  think,  my  men,  that  will  not  do  him  much  good. 
We  shall  most  likely  leave  him  no  time  for  that,  but  charge  him  home  at 
once  with  the  bayonet  and  the  butt.  As  soon  as,  with  God's  help,  the 
enemy  has  been  beaten  and  compelled  to  retreat,  we  shall  follow  on  his 
traces,  and  you  will  rest  fi^om  your  toils  in  the  foeman's  country,  and 
demand  in  the  amplest  measure  those  refreshments  which  a  victorious 
army  will  have  fully  merited. 

Finally  Prince  Frederick  Charles  sajrs : — 

Soldiers  1  the  faithless  and  covenant-breaking  Austria  has  now  for 
some  time,  without  any  declaration  of  war,  disregarded  the  frontiers  of 
Prussia  in  Upper  Silesia.  So  I  might  have  equally  considered  myself 
entitled  to  cross  the  Bohemian  frontier  without  any  declaration  of  war. 
But  I  have  not  done  so.  To-day  I  have  forwarded  a  regular  declara- 
tion of  war,  and  to-day  we  tread,  the  territory  of  our  enemies,  in  order 
to  protect  our  own  country.  May  our  commencement  have  God's  sanc- 
tion. [Is  this  the  same  God  with  whose  help  Benedek  promised  to  strike 
down  the  enemy  ?]  Let  us  rest  our  cause  in  His  hands,  who  guides  the 
hearts  of  men,  who  decides  the  fate  of  nations  and  the  result  of  battles, 
as  it  is  written  in  the  Scriptures.  Let  your  hearts  beat  for  God  and  your 
hands  strike  the  foe.  In  this  war,  as  .you  know,  Prussia's  dearest 
interests,  nay,  the  continued  existence  of  our  beloved  Prussia,  are  in 
question.  The  enemy  avows,  in  the  most  open  manner,  the  wish  to  dis- 
member and  humiliate  her.  Shall  then  the  rivers  of  blood  which  your 
fathers  and  mine  poured  out  under  Frederick  the  Great,  and  that  which 
we  lately  poured  out  at  DUppel  and  Alsen,  have  been  poured  out  in  vain  ? 


2X4  I^^   DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

Never  I  we  will  maintain  Prussia  as  she  is,  and  make  her  stronger  and 
more  powerful  by  victory.  We  will  show  ourselves  worthy  of  our 
fathers.  We  rely  oh  the  God  of  our  fathers  that  He  will  be  gracious  to 
us,  and  bless  the  arms  of  Prussia  1  So,  now,  forward  with  our  old  battle- 
ay:  **  With  God  £01  king  and  fatherland.    I^ng  live  the  king.** 


CHAPTER  X. 

7%e  Austro-Prusstan  war, — My  husband  with  the  army, — 
Parting  Utters. — Dr,  Bresser. — The  course  of  the  war. — 
Victory  of  Custozza. — Austrian  reverses  in  Bohemia. — 
War  correspondence  in  the  newspapers. — Discussions  with 
my  father. — A  long  letter  to  my  husband. 

So  it  had  come  again — this  greatest  of  all  misfortunes — and 
was  greeted  by  the  populace  with  the  accustomed  rejoicing. 
The  regiments  marched  out  (in  what  state  were  they  to  return  ?) 
and  wishes  for  victory,  and  blessings,  and  the  shouting  of  the 
street  boys  were  their  accompaniment. 

Frederick  had  been  ordered  to  Bohemia  some  time  previously, 
even  before  war  had  been  declared;  and  just  when  matters 
were  in  such  a  position  as  to  enable  me  to  entertain  a  confident 
hope  that  the  quarrel  about  the  duchies,  so  unblessed  and  so 
contemptible,  would  be  settled  amicably.  And,  therefore,  this 
time  I  was  spared  the  heart-rending  leave-taking  which  precedes 
the  setting  off  of  one's  beloved  directly  "  to  the  war  ".  When 
my  father  brought  me  the  news  in  triumph :  **rJow  it  is  off,"  I 
had  been  already  alone  for  a  fortnight.  And  for  some  time  I 
had  quite  made  my  mind  up  to  this  news,  as  a  criminal  in  his 
cell  has  made  up  his  mind  to  the  reading  of  the  death-sentence. 

I  bowed  my  head  and  said  nothing. 

"  Keep  up  a  good  heart,  my  child.  The  war  will  not  last 
long ;  in  a  day  or  two  we  shall  be  in  Berlin.  And  as  your  hus- 
band came  back  from  Schleswig-Holstein,  so  he  will  come  back 
from  this  campaign,  but  covered  with  much  greener  laurels.  It 
may,  indeed,  be  unpleasant  for  him,  being  himself  of  Prussian 

(215) 


2l6  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

extraction,  to  fight  against  Prassia,  but  after  he  entered  into  the 
Austrian  service  he  became  one  of  us  body  and  soul.  Those 
Prussians !  the  arrogant  windbags !  they  want  to  turn  us  out  of 
the  Bund !  they  will  soon  repent  it ;  if  Silesia  becomes  ours 
again,  and  if  the  Hapsburgs " 

I  stretched  out  my  hand  :  "  Father — one  request — leave  me 
to  myself. 

He  might  have  imagined  that  I  felt  the  need  of  giving  my 
tears  full  vent ;  and  as  he  was  an  enemy  to  all  scenes  of  emo- 
tion, he  willingly  granted  my  wish  and  took  his  departure. 

I,  however,  did  not  weep.  I  felt  as  if  a  numbing  stroke  had 
fallen  on  my  head.  Breathing  heavily,  staring  blindly,  I  sat 
motionless  for  some  time.  Then  I  went  to  my  writing-table, 
opened  the  red  volume,  and  made  this  entry  : — 

"  The  sentence  of  death  is  pronounced.  A  hundred  thou- 
sand men  are  to  be  executed.  Will  Frederick  be  among  them  ? 
And  I  also,  as  a  consequence.  Who  am  I  that  I  should  not 
perish  like  the  rest  of  the  hundred  thousand  ?  I  wish  I  were 
dead  already." 

From  Frederick  I  received  the  same  day  a  few  hasty  lines. 

"  My  wife,  be  of  good  cheer ;  keep  your  heart  up !  We  have 
been  happy — no  one  can  take  that  from  us — even  if  to-day  for 
us,  as  for  so  many  others,  the  decree  has  gone  forth — *  It  is 
finished '.  (The  same  thought  here  as  I  expressed  in  my  red 
book  about  the  many  others  who  were  sentenced.)  To-day 
we  go  to  meet  *  the  enemy  \  Perhaps  I  shall  recognise  there 
a  few  comrades  in  battle  at  Diippel  and  Alsen — possibly  my 
little  cousin  Godfrey.  .  .  .  We  are  to  march  on  Liebenau  with 
the  advanced  guard  of  Count  Clam-Gallas.  From  this  time 
there  will  be  no  more  leisure  for  writing.  Do  not  look  for  any 
/effers  for  you.  At  the  most,  if  opportunity  offers,  a  line,  as  a 
token  that  I  am  alive.  But  before  that  I  should  like  to  find 
one  single  word  which  could  comprehend  in  itself  the  whole  of 
my  love  that  I  might  write  it  here  for  you  in  case  it  might  be 
my  last.  I  can  find  only  this  word — *  Martha'.  You  know 
what  that  means  for  me." 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  217 

Conrad  Althaus  had  also  to  march.  He  was  full  of  fire  and 
delight  in  battle,  and  animated  by  sufficient  hatred  of  the  Prus- 
sians to  make  him  start  off  with  pleasure ;  still  his  parting  was 
hard  for  him.  The  marriage  licence  had  arrived  only  two  days 
before  the  order  to  march. 

"  Oh,  Lilly,  Lilly,"  he  cried  with  pain,  as  he  said  adieu  to  his 
affianced  bride,  "why  did  you  delay  so  long  to  accept  me? 
Who  knows  now  whether  I  shall  come  back  again  ?  " 

My  poor  sister  was  herself  full  of  repentance.  Now  for  the 
first  time  there  sprang  up  passionate  love  for  him  she  had 
slighted  so  long.  When  he  was  gone  she  sank  into  my  arms 
in  tears. 

"  Oh,  why  did  I  not  say  *  yes '  long  ago  !  I  should  now  have 
been  his  wife." 

"  Then,  my  poor  Lilly,  the  parting  would  have  been  all  the 
more  painful  for  you." 

She  shook  her  head.  I  well  understood  what  was  going  on 
in  her  mind,  perhaps  more  clearly  than  she  understood  herself; 
to  be  obliged  to  part  with  love-longings  still  unfulfilled,  and, 
perhaps,  destined  to  remain  for  ever  unfulfilled ;  to  see  the  cup 
torn  from  their  lips,  and  possibly  shattered,  before  they  had 
had  a  single  draught — that  might  well  be  doubly  torturing. 

My  father,  sisters,  and  Aunt  Mary  now  removed  to  Grumitz. 
1  was  easily  persuaded  to  go  there  too  with  my  little  son.  As 
long  as  Frederick  was  away,  my  own  hearth  seemed  extinguished 
— I  could  not  stay  there.  It  is  strange.  I  felt  myself  just  as 
much  a  widow,  to  have  done  with  life  just  as  thoroughly,  as  if 
the  news  of  the  outbreak  of  war  had  been  at  the  same  time  the 
news  of  Frederick's  death.  Occasionally  in  the  midst  of  my 
dull  grief,  a  brighter  thought  would  break  in  :  "  He  is  alive  and 
surely  may  come  back  " ;  but  along  with  it  an  idea  of  horror 
would  rise  again  :  "  He  is  writhing  and  agonising  in  intolerable 
pains ;  he  is  fainting  in  a  trench ;  heavy  waggons  are  driving 
over  his  shattered  limbs ;  flies  and  worms  are  crawling  over  his 
open  wounds ;  the  people  who  are  clearing  the  field  of  battle 
take  the  stiffened  object  lying  on  tke  ground  for  dead,  and  are 


2l8  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

shovelling  him  still  alive  along  with  the  dead  into  the  damp 
trench  :  there  he  comes  to  himself  and " 

With  a  loud  scream  I  woke  up  from  such  images  as  these. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  now,  Martha,"  said  my  father 
in  a  scolding  tone.  "You  will  drive  yourself  out  of  your 
senses  if  you  brood  in  this  way  and  cry  out  so ;  why  will  you 
summon  up  such  foolish  pictures  out  of  your  fancy?  It  is 
sinful." 

I  had  indeed  often  given  expression  aloud  to  these  ideas  of 
mine,  and  this  irritated  my  father  extremely. 

"  Sinful,"  he  went  on,  "  and  improper  and  nonsensical.  Such 
cases  as  your  excited  fancy  pictures,  do  no  doubt  occur  once 
in  a  thousand  times  among  the  common  men,  but  a  staff- 
officer,  as  your  husband  is,  is  not  left  to  lie  on  the  field. 
Besides,  as  a  general  rule,  folks  should  not  think  about  such 
horrid  things.  Such  conduct  involves  a  kind  of  sacrilege,  a 
profanation  of  war,  in  keeping  these  pitiful  details  before  one's 
eyes  instead  of  the  sublimity  of  the  whole.  One  should  not 
think  about  them." 

**  Yes,  yes,  not  think  about  it,"  I  replied,  "  that  is  always  the 
custom  of  mankind  in  the  presence  of  any  human  misery — 
'don't  think  about  it/  that  is  the  support  of  all  kinds  of 
barbarity." 

Our  family  doctor,  Dr.  Bresser,  was  not  at  this  moment  at 
Grumitz,  he  had  voluntarily  placed  himself  at  the  disposal  of 
the  army  medical  department,  and  had  started  for  the  theatre 
of  war,  and  the  idea  occurred  to  me  also  whether  I  should  not 
go  too,  as  a  sick-nurse.  Yes,  if  I  could  have  known  that  I 
should  be  in  Frederick's  neighbourhood,  be  at  hand  in  case  he 
was  wounded,  I  would  not  have  hesitated.  But  for  others? 
No,  there  my  strength  broke  down,  my  spirit  of  sacrifice  failed. 
To  see  them  die,  hear  the  death-rattle,  want  to  give  help  to 
hundreds  begging  for  help,  and  have  no  help  to  give,  to  bring 
on  myself  all  this  pain,  this  disgust,  this  grief,  without  thereby 
getting  to  Frederick,  on  the  contrary  diminishing  thereby  the 
chance  of  meeting  again,  for  the  nurses  themselves  ran  into 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  219 

various  kinds  of  danger  to  their  lives.  No ;  that  I  would  not 
do.  Besides  my  father  informed  me  that  a  private  person  like 
myself  was  altogether  inadmissible  for  nursing  in  a  field  hospital, 
that  this  office  could  only  be  exercised  by  soldiers  of  the  army 
medical  service,  or  at  the  most  by  sisters  of  charity. 

'*  To  pluck  charpie,"  he  said,  **  and  prepare  bandages  for  the 
Patriotic  Aid  Society,  that  is  the  only  thing  that  you  ladies  can 
do  to  help  the  wounded,  and  that  my  daughters  ought  to  do 
diligently,  on  that  I  bestow  my  blessing." 

And  it  was  now  to  this  occupation  that  my  sisters  and  T 
devoted  many  hours  of  every  day.  Rosa  and  Lilly  worked 
with  gently  compassionate,  almost  happy-looking  faces.  As  we 
heaped  up  the  fine  threads  under  our  fingers  into  soft  masses, 
or  folded  up  the  strips  of  linen  in  beautiful  order  together, 
the  occupation  affected  the  two  girls  like  an  office  of  charitable 
nursing:  they  fancied  themselves  soothing  the  burning  pains 
and  staunching  the  bleeding  wounds,  hearing  the  sighs  of  relief 
and  seeing  the  grateful  glances  of  those  on  whom  they  attended. 
The  picture  they  so  formed  of  the  condition  of  a  wounded  man 
was  then  almost  a  pleasant  one.  Enviable  soldiers  I  who, 
delivered  from  the  dangers  of  the  raging  fight,  were  now  stretched 
on  clean  soft  beds,  and  there  would  be  nursed  and  pampered 
up  to  the  time  of  their  recovery,  lulled  for  the  most  part  in 
a  half-unconscious  slumber  of  luxurious  fatigue,  waking  up 
again  occasionally  to  the  pleasant  consciousness  that  their 
lives  were  saved,  and  that  they  would  be  able  to  return  to  their 
friends  at  home  and  relate  to  them  how  they  had  received  their 
honourable  wounds  at  the  battle  of . 

Our  father  also  encouraged  them  in  this  innocent  way  of 
looking  at  it  *'  Bravo,  bravo,  girls  !  working  again  to-day ! 
You  have  now  again  prepared  delights  for  a  number  of  our 
brave  defenders.  What  a  relief  it  is  to  get  a  pad  of  charpie  like 
that  on  a  bleeding  wound  1     I  can  tell  you  a  tale  about  that. 

Long  ago,  when  I  got  that  bullet  in  my  leg  at  Palestro " 

and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

I  however  sighed  and  said   nothing.      I   had  heard  other 


220  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

histories  of  wounds  than  those  which  my  father  loved  to  relate, 
histories  which  bore  about  the  same  relation  to  the  usual 
veterans'  anecdotes,  as  the  realities  of  the  life  of  a  poor  shepherd 
do  to  the  pastoral  pictures  of  Watteau. 

The  Red  Cross.  I  knew  through  what  an  impulse  of  popular 
sympathy,  shocked  to  the  most  painful  degree,  that  institu- 
tion had  been  called  into  life.  In  its  time  I  had  followed 
the  debate  which  took  place  at  Geneva  on  the  subject,  and 
had  read  the  tract  by  Dunant,  which  gave  the  impetus  to 
the  whole  thing.  A  heart-rending  cry  of  woe  was  that  tract ! 
The  noble  patrician  of  Geneva  had  hurried  to  the  field  of  Sol- 
ferino,  in  order  to  give  what  aid  he  could  ;  and  what  he  found 
there  he  related  to  the  world.  Innumerable  wounded  men,  who 
had  been  lying  there  for  five  or  six  days  without  any  assistance. 
He  would  have  liked  to  save  them  all ;  but  what  could  he,  a 
single  person,  do,  what  could  the  other  few  individuals,  in  the 
face  of  this  mass  of  misery  ?  He  saw  men  whose  lives  might 
have  been  saved  by  a  drop  of  water,  by  a  mouthful  of  bread. 
He  saw  men  who,  still  breathing,  had  to  be  buried  in  fearful 
haste.  .  .  .  Then  he  spoke  out ;  said  what  had  often  been 
admitted,  but  now  found  an  echo  for  the  first  time,  -piz,,  that 
the  means  for  nursing  and  rescue  at  the  disposal  of  the 
army  administration  had  not  grown  in  proportion  to  the 
requirements  of  a  battle.  And  so  the  "  Red  Cross "  was 
founded. 

Austria  had  at  that  time  not  yet  adhered  to  the  Geneva 
Convention.  Why  ?  Why  is  there  resistance  opposed  to  every- 
thing that  is  new,  however  rich  in  blessing,  and  however  simple 
it  may  be  ?  Because  of  the  law  of  laziness,  the  power  of  holy 
custom.  "  The  idea  is  very  fine,  but  impracticable,"  is  the  saying. 
I  often  heard  my  father  repeat  these  arguments  of  hesitation 
used  by  several  of  the  delegates  at  the  Conference  of  1863. 
"  Impracticable,  and,  even  if  practicable,  yet  in  many  points  of 
view  unbecoming.  The  military  authorities  could  not  allow 
that  private  action  on  the  field  of  battle  was  admissible.  In 
war  tactical  aims  must  have  the  priority  over  the  friendly  offices 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  221 

of  humanity ;  and  how  could  this  private  action  be  surrounded 
with  proper  guarantees  against  the  existence  of  espionage? 
And  the  expenses  !  Is  not  war  costly  enough  already  ?  The 
voluntary  nurses  would,  through  their  own  material  wants,  fall 
as  a  burden  on  the  provision  department ;  or,  if  they  are  to 
supply  themselves  in  the  country  occupied,  will  there  not  arise 
a  regrettable  difficulty  for  the  army  administration  through  the 
purchase  of  the  articles  necessary  for  the  service,  and  the 
immediate  raising  of  their  price  ?  " 

Oh,  this  official  wisdom !  so  dry,  so  well-instructed,  so  real, 
so  redolent  of  prudence,  and  so  unfathomably  stupid  I 

The  first  engagement  between  our  troops  in  Bohemia  and  the 
enemy  took  place  on  June  25  at  Liebenau.  My  father  brought 
us  this  news  with  his  usual  triumphant  mien. 
^  "That  is  a  grand  beginning,"  he  said  ;  *'  you  can  see  heaven 
is  on  our  side.  It  is  significant  that  the  first  with  whom  these 
windbags  had  to  do  were  the  troops  of  our  celebrated  *  Iron 
Brigade '.  You  know,  of  course,  the  Poschach  Brigade  which 
defended  Konigsberg  in  Silesia  so  valiantly — they  will  give  them 
all  they  want ! "  (However,  the  next  news  from  the  seat  of  war 
showed  that  after  five  hours'  fighting  this  brigade,  forming 
part  of  the  advanced  guard  of  Clam-Gallas,  retreated  to 
Podol.  Also  that  Frederick  was  there — which  I  did  not  kno\^ 
— and  that  in  the  same  night  Podol,  which  had  been  barricaded, 
was  attacked  by  General  Horn,  and  the  fight  renewed  by  the 
bright  moonlight ;  which  also  I  heard  later.)  "  But,"  continued 
my  father,  "even  more  splendid  than  in  the  north  is  the  begin- 
ning of  matters  in  the  south.  At  Custozza  we  have  gained  a 
victory,  children,  more  glorious  than  any  but  one.  I  have 
always  said  it:  Lombardy  must  become  oursl  Are  you  not 
delighted  ?  I  regard  the  war  as  already  decided ;  for  if  we  get 
done  with  the  Italians,  who  do  at  any  rate  set  a  regular  trained 
army  in  the  field  against  us,  we  shall  not  find  it  hard  to  deal 
with  these  *  tailors'  apprentices'.  This  Landwehr — it  is  really 
an  impudence — but  it  is  just  of  a  piece  with  the  whole  Prussian 


22a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

conceit  to  take  the  field  against  regular  armies  with  such  stuff. 
There  are  these  fellows,  torn  away  from  the  workbench  and  the 
writing-desk ;  they  are  not  inured  to  any  hardship,  and  so  it  is 
impossible  that  they  can  stand  in  the  field  against  soldiers  proof 
against  blood  and  steel.  Just  look  there— at  what  the  Wiener 
Zeitung  of  June  24  writes  in  its  *  original  correspondence* — 
surely  that  is  good  news  :  *  In  Prussian  Silesia  cattle  plague  has 
broken  out,  and,  as  is  understood,  in  a  highly  threatening  form'." 

"*  Cattle  plague,*  *  threatening  form,'  'joyful  news,'"  I  said 
with  a  slight  shake  of  the  head ;  **nice  things  people  must  take 
pleasure  in  in  times  of  war.  However,  one  good  thing  is  that 
black  and  yellow  posts  are  erected  on  the  frontiers,  so  that  the 
plague  cannot  cross." 

But  my  father  did  not  hear,  and  went  on  reading  his  pleasant 
intelligence : — 

V'  Fever  is  raging  among  the  Prussian  troops  at  Ncisse.  The  nn- 
healthy  marsh-land,  the  bad  treatment  and  the  miserable  shelter  of  the 
troops  accumulated  in  the  villages  around,  must  necessarily  produce  such 
results.  In  Austria  we  have  no  idea  of  the  treatment  of  the  Prussian 
soldiery.  The  nobles  believe  themselves  entitled  to  give  any  orders  they 
please  to  the  "  common  folk  *'.  Six  ounces  of  pork  per  man  is  all — and 
that  for  men  who  are  not  experienced  soldiers. 

"The  newspapers  are  all  full  of  capital  news  ;  above  all,  the 
account  of  the  glorious  day  of  Custozza.  You  should  keep 
these  papers,  Martha." 

And  I  have  kept  them.  It  is  what  people  should  always  do  j 
and  when  a  new  national  quarrel  is  impending,  then  read,  not 
the  most  recent  newspapers,  but  those  dating  from  the  former 
war,  and  then  you  will  see  what  weight  to  attach  to  all  their 
prophesying  and  boasting,  and  even  to  their  accounts  and 
intelligence.     That  is  instructive. 

From  the  seat  of  war  in  the  north — from  headquarters  of  the  Army 
of  the  North — they  write  to  us  as  follows,  on  the  subject  of  the  Prussian 
plan  of  campaign  (!) :  "  According  to  the  latest  advices,  the  Prussian 
army  has  shifted  its  headquarters  to  Eastern  Silesia.  (Then  follows  in 
the  usual  tactical  style  a  long  narrative  of  the  projected  movements  and 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  923 

positions  contemplated  by  the  enemy,  according  to  which  the  gentleman 
who  furnished  the  news  must  have  had  a  much  clearer  picture  before  him 
than  Moltke  and  Roon.)  According  to  this,  it  seems  to  be  the  object  of 
the  Prussians  to  anticipate  in  this  way  our  march  on  Berlin  by  their  own 
in  which,  however,  they  will  hardly  succeed,  having  regard  to  the  pre- 
cautions taken  (with  which  again  *  our  special  correspondent '  is  much 
more  familiar  than  Benedek).  Favourable  accounts  may  be  looked  for 
from  the  northern  army  with  the  utmost  confidence,  even  if  they  do  not 
arrive  so  quickly  as  the  popular  longing  desires  them  to  do.  They  will, 
however,  thereby  become  more  decisive  and  more  important." 

The  new  Frankfurter  Zeitung  relates  a  pleasant  interlude, 
the  march  of  Austrian  troops  of  Italian  nationality  through 
Munich,  as  follows  : — 

Among  the  troops  passing  through  Munich  were  some  battalions 
of  the  line.  They,  like  the  rest  of  the  troops  passing  through  the 
Bavarian  capital,  were  entertained  in  the  garden  of  an  inn  situated 
near  the  station.  Any  one  might  convince  himself  with  what  delight 
these  Venetians  testified  to  their  joy  in  fighting  the  foes  of  Austria 
(perhaps  too  *'  any  one "  might  have  imagined  that  drunken  soldiers 
would  willingly  show  enthusiasm  for  anything  they  were  told  to  be 
enthusiastic  about).  In  Wiirzburg  the  station  was  filled  by  the  rank  and 
file  of  an  Austrian  regiment  of  infantry  of  the  line.  As  far  as  could  be 
ascertained  the  whole  consisted  of  Venetians.  They  were  received  with 
equal  friendliness  (/.«.,  were  made  equally  drunk) ;  and  the  men  could  not 
find  words  to  express  with  sufficient  warmth  their  joy  and  their  determina- 
tion to  fight  against  the  truce-breakers  (of  two  parties  at  war  with  each 
other  the  other  is  always  "  the  truce-breakers").  The  hurrahs  were  endless. 
(Could  not  this  "  Mr.  Any  One,"  who  was  thus  lounging  about  the  rail- 
way station,  and  so  edified  by  the  cries  of  the  soldiery,  find  out  that  there 
is  nothing  so  contagious  as  hurrahing — that  a  thousand  voices  shouting 
together  are  not  the  expression  of  a  thousand  unanimous  sentiments, 
but  simply  exemplify  the  working  of  the  natural  instinct  of  imitation  ?) 

At  Bbhmisch-Triibau  Field-Marshal  Benedek  communicated 
to  the  Army  of  the  North  the  three  bulletins  relative  to  the 
victory  of  the  Army  of  the  South,  and  added  the  following  order 
of  the  day  : — 

In  the  name  of  the  Army  of  the  North,  I  have  despatched  the 
following  telegram  to  the  commander  of  the  Army  of  the  South :  Field- 
Marshal  Benedek  and  the  whole  northern  army  to  the  glorious  and  most 


224  ^^^   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

illustrious  commander-in-chief  of  the  brave  southern  army  with  jojrfbl 
admiration,  sends  most  hearty  congratulations  on  the  news  of  the  famous 
day  of  Custozza.  The  campaign  in  the  south  is  opened  with  a  new  and 
glorious  victory  for  our  arms.  Glorious  Custozza  shines  on  the  escut- 
cheon of  the  imperial  army. 

Soldiers  of  the  Army  of  the  North  1  You  will  receive  the  news  with 
shouts  of  joy.  You  will  move  to  battle  with  increased  enthusiasm,  so 
that  we  also  may  very  soon  inscribe  names  of  fame  on  that  same  shield,  and 
announce  to  the  emperor  a  victory  from  the  north  also  towards  which 
our  warlike  ardour  burns,  and  which  your  valour  and  devotion  will  con 
quer,  to  the  cry  "  Long  live  the  emperor  ". 

Benedek. 

To  the  foregoing  telegram  the  following  answer  from  Verona 
reached  Bohmisch-Tnibau : — 

The  Army  of  the  South  and  its  commander  return  their  thanks  to 
their  beloved  ex-commander  and  his  brave  army.  Convinced  that  we 
also  shall  soon  have  to  send  our  congratulations  for  a  similar  victory. 

"  Convinced  !     Convinced  I  "  .  .  . 

"  Does  not  your  heart  leap  up,  my  children,  when  you  read 
such  things  ? "  shouted  my  father  in  delight.  "  Can  you  not 
rise  up  to  a  sufficient  height  of  patriotic  feeling  to  throw  into 
the  background  your  private  circumstances  at  the  sight  of  such 
triumphs,  you,  Martha,  to  forget  that  your  Frederick,  and  you, 
Lilly,  that  your  Conrad  is  exposed  to  some  danger  ?  Danger 
which  probably  they  will  come  out  of  safe  and  sound:  and  even 
to  succumb  to  which — a  fate  which  they  share  with  the  best 
sons  of  our  country — would  redound  to  their  fame  and  honour. 
There  is  not  a  soldier  who  would  not  willingly  die  to  the  call, 
*  For  our  country  1 ' " 

"If,  after  a  lost  battle,  a  man  is  left  lying  with  shattered 
limbs  on  the  field,*'  I  replied,  "and  lies  there  undiscovered  for 
four  or  five  days  and  nights  in  indescribable  agonies  from  thirst 
and  hunger,  rotting  while  still  alive,  and  so  perishes,  knowing 
all  the  while  that  his  death  has  not  helped  his  country  you  talk 
of  one  bit,  but  has  brought  his  loved  ones  to  despair,  I  should 
like  to  know  whether  all  this  time  he  is  gladly  dying  to  the 
call  you  speak  of." 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  225 

"  You  are  outrageous,  and  besides  you  speak  in  such  shrill 
tones,  quite  unbecoming  for  a  lady." 

"Oh  yes,  the  trae  word,  the  naked  reality,  is  outrageous, 
is  shameless.  Only  the  phrase  which  by  thousandfold  repe- 
tition has  become  sanctioned  is  'proper,'  but  I  assure  you, 
father,  that  this  unnatural  *  joy  in  dying  *  which  is  thus  exacted 
from  all  men,  however  heroic  it  may  seem  to  him  who  uses  the 
phrase,  sounds  to  me  like  a  spoken  death-knell** 

Among  Frederick's  papers,  many  years  later,  I  found  a  letter 
which  in  those  days  I  sent  to  the  seat  of  war.  This  letter  shows 
as  clearly  as  possible  with  what  feelings  I  was  filled  at  that  time. 

"  Gramitz,  June  28,  1866. 

**  Dear  one, — I  am  not  alive.  Fancy  that  in  the  next  room 
people  are  debating  whether  I  am  to  be  executed  in  the  next 
few  days  or  no,  while  I  have  to  wait  outside  for  their  decision. 
During  this  period  of  waiting  I  do  indeed  breathe,  but  can  I 
call  it  living  t  The  next  room,  in  which  the  question  is  to  be 
decided,  is  called  Bohemia.  But  no,  my  love,  the  picture  is 
hardly  yet  correct  For  if  it  were  only  a  matter  of  my  life  or 
death,  the  anxiety  would  not  be  so  great.  For  my  anxiety  con- 
cerns a  far  dearer  life  than  my  own  ;  and  my  fear  is  concerned 
even  with  something  still  worse  than  your  death — with  your 
possible  agony  in  dying.  Oh  that  all  this  were  over,  over! 
Oh  that  our  victories  would  come  in  speedy  succession ;  not 
for  the  sake  of  the  victory,  but  of  the  end ! 

"  Will  these  lines  ever  reach  you  ?  and  where,  and  how  ? 
Wliether  after  a  hot  day's  fight  or  in  camp,  or  perhaps  in  hos- 
pital ?  In  any  case  it  will  do  you  good  to  get  news  of  your 
dear  ones.  If  I  can  write  nothing  but  what  is  mournful — and 
what  else  but  what  is  mournful  can  be  felt  during  this  time, 
when  the  sun  is  darkened  by  the  great  black  pall  hoisted  up  in 
the  name  of  *  our  country,*  to  fall  down  on  the  country's  sons  ? 
— still  my  lines  will  bring  you  refreshment,  for  I  am  dear  to  you, 
Frederick — I  knew  how  dear,  and  my  written  word  rejoices  and 

«5 


226  L4T  DOWN  TOUE  ARMS. 

moves  joti,  as  would  a  soft  touch  from  my  hand.  I  am  near 
you,  Frederick — be  assured  of  that — with  every  thought,  with 
every  breath,  by  day  and  night.  Here,  in  my  own  circle,  I 
move  and  act  and  speak  mechanically.  My  innermost  self, 
that  belongs  to  you,  that  never  leaves  you  for  a  moment ;  only 
my  boy  reminds  me  that  the  world  still  contains  for  me  a  thing 
which  is  not  you.  The  good  little  fellow — if  you  knew  how  he 
asks  and  cares  for  you  !  We  two  talk  together  of  nothing  but 
*  papa*.  He  knows  well,  like  a  boy  of  sharp  perceptions,  what 
object  fills  my  heart ;  and  however  little  he  may  be  (you  know 
that !)  he  is  already  in  a  sense  a  friend  of  his  mother.  I  even 
begin  to  speak  with  him  as  with  a  reasonable  being,  and  for 
this  he  is  thankful.  I,  on  my  part,  am  thankful  to  him  for  the 
love  he  shows  to  you.  It  is  so  seldom  that  children  get  on 
well  with  their  step-parents.  It  is  true  there  is  nothing  of  the 
stepfather  about  you — you  could  not  be  more  tender  and  kind 
toa  child  of  your  own,  my  own  tender  and  kind  one !  Yes, 
kindness,  great,  soft,  and  mild,  is  the  foundation  of  your  being ; 
and  what  does  the  poet  say?  *As  heaven  is  vaulted  by 
one  single  great  sapphire,  so  the  greatness  of  character  of  a 
noble  man  is  formed  of  one  single  virtue,  kindness.'  In  other 
words,  I  love  you,  Frederick !  That  is  still  always  the  refrain 
of  all  my  thoughts  about  you  and  your  qualities.  I  love  you 
so  confidingly,  with  such  assurance.  I  rest  in  you,  Frederick, 
warm  and  soft — that  is  when  I  have  you,  of  course.  Now  when 
you  are  again  torn  from  me,  my  repose  is  naturally  gone.  Oh, 
if  the  storm  were  only  over,  over ;  if  you  all  were  only  in 
Berlin  to  dictate  terms  of  peace  to  King  William  !  For  my 
father  is  firmly  convinced  that  this  will  be  the  end  of  the  cam- 
paign ;  and  from  all  that  is  heard  and  read  here,  I  also  must 
believe  him.  *  As  soon  as,  with  God's  help,  the  enemy  is 
struck  down  * — so  runs  Benedek's  proclamation — *  we  will 
follow  on  his  track,  and  you  shall  repose  in  the  country  of  the 

foe,  and  enjoy  those  refreshments '  and  so  on.     What, 

then,  are  these  refreshments  ?  At  this  day  no  general  dare  say 
openly,  and  without  circumlocution :  '  You  shall  plunder,  bum, 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  227 

murder,  and  ravish,'  as  they  used  to  say  in  the  middle  ages  to 
excite  their  hordes.  Now,  at  the  most,  all  that  could  be  kept 
before  their  eyes  as  a  reward  would  be  the  free  distribution  ol 
beer  and  sausages;  but  that  would  be  a  little  tame,  and 
so  it  was  put  figuratively — '  those  refreshments,'  and  so  on. 
Every  one  may  make  out  of  that  what  he  pleases.  The  prin- 
ciple that  in  *the  country  of  the  foe'  is  to  be  found  the 
reward  of  war  is  still  maintained  in  military  language.  .  .  . 
And  how  will  you  feel  in  *the  foeman's  land,'  which  is  really 
your  own  ancestral  country,  where  your  friends  and  your 
cousins  are  living  ?  Will  you  *  refresh '  yourself  by  laying 
Aunt  Cornelia's  pretty  villa  even  with  the  ground  ?  *  Enemy's 
country ; '  that  is  really  a  fossilised  conception  of  those  times 
when  war  was  openly  what  its  raison  d^etre  proclaims  it,  a 
piracy ;  and  when  the  enemy's  country  attracted  the  combatant 
as  a  land  of  prey  which  promised  him  a  recompense. 

"  I  am  talking  now  with  you,  as  I  used  in  those  happy  hours 
when  you  were  at  my  side,  and  when,  after  the  reading  of  some 
book  of  the  progressive  school,  we  used  to  philosophise  with 
each  other  about  the  contradictions  of  our  times,  so  intimately, 
so  entirely  understanding  and  supplementing  each  other.  In 
my  circle  there  is  no  one — no  one — with  whom  I  could  talk 
about  matters  of  that  kind.  Doctor  Bresser  would  have  been 
the  only  one  with  whom  ideas  condemnatory  of  war  could  be 
exchanged  ;  and  he  also  is  now  gone — himself  drawn  into  this 
horrible  war — but  with  the  purpose  of  healing  wounds,  not 
inflicting  them ;  another  contradiction  really,  this  *  humanity ' 
in  war:  an  essential  contradiction.  It  is  about  the  same  as 
*  enlightenment'  in  faith.  One  thing  or  the  other ;  but  humanity 
and  war,  reason  and  dogma,  that  will  not  do.  The  downright, 
burning  hatred  of  the  enemy,  coupled  with  an  entire  contempt 
for  human  life,  that  is  the  vital  nerve  of  war,  exactly  as  the  un- 
questioning suppression  of  reason  is  the  fundamental  condition 
of  faith.  But  we  live  in  a  time  of  compromise.  The  old 
institutions  and  the  new  ideas  are  working  with  equal  power. 
And  so  people,  who  do  not  wish  to  break  entirely  with  the  old 


2a8  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

and  who  cannot  entirely  comprehend  the  new,  make  an  attempt 
to  fuse  the  two  together ;  and  it  is  this  which  generates  this 
mendacious,  inconsistent,  contradictory,  half-and-half  system 
under  which  spirits  who  thirst  for  truth,  accuracy,  and  complete- 
ness so  groan  and  suffer. 

**  Ah,  why  do  I  compose  all  this  treatise !  You  will  at  the 
present  time  be  scarcely  disposed  for  such  generalisations,  as 
you  used  to  be  in  our  happy  hours  of  chat.  You  hear  raging 
round  you  a  horrible  reality,  with  which  you  have  to  reckon. 
How  much  better  would  it  be  if  you  could  accept  it  with  the 
simple  assurance  of  ancient  times,  when  the  warhke  life  was  to 
the  soldier  a  proud  pleasure  and  a  delight.  Better  also  would 
it  be  if  I  could  write  to  you,  as  other  wives  do,  letters  full  of 
wishes  for  prosperity,  confident  promises  of  victory,  and  incite- 
ments to  your  courage.  Girls  of  the  present  day  are  educated 
in  patriotism,  so  that  at  the  proper  time  they  might  cry  to  their 
husbands :  *  Go  on,  die  for  your  country — that  is  the  most 
glorious  of  deaths ' ;  or,  '  Come  back  with  victory,  and  then  we 
will  reward  you  with  our  loves.  In  the  meantime  we  will  pray 
for  you.  The  God  of  battles,  who  protects  our  army,  He  will 
hear  our  prayers.  Day  and  night  our  intercession  is  rising  up 
to  heaven,  and  we  are  sure  to  take  His  favour  by  storm.  You 
will  come  back  crowned  with  fame.  We  never  tremble  for  an 
instant,  for  wc  are  worthy  comrades  of  your  valour.  No !  no ! 
the  mothers  of  your  sons  must  be  no  cowards  if  they  would  raise 
up  a  new  race  of  heroes ;  and  even  if  we  have  to  give  up  what 
is  dearest  to  us — for  king  and  country  no  sacrifice  is  too  great ! ' 

"  That  would  be  the  right  letter  for  a  soldier's  wife,  would  it 
not  ?  But  not  such  a  letter  as  you  would  wish  to  read  from 
your  wife — from  the  partner  of  your  thoughts,  from  her  who 
shares  your  disgust  at  the  old  blind  delusion  of  mankind.  Oh, 
such  disgust — so  bitter,  so  painful  that  I  cannot  describe  it  to 
you.  When  I  picture  to  myself  these  two  armies,  composed  of 
individuals  with  the  gift  of  reason,  and  for  the  most  part  kind 
and  gentle  men,  how  they  are  rushing  on  each  other,  to  annihi- 
late each  other,  desolating  at  the  same  time  the  unfortunate  land. 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  229 

in  which  they  cast  aside  the  villages  they  have  *  taken  *  like 
cards  in  their  game  of  murder.  When  I  picture  all  this,  I  feel 
inclined  to  shriek  out :  *  Do  bethink  you  ! '  *  Do  stop ! '  And 
out  of  the  100,000,  90,000  individuals  would  certainly  be  glad 
to  stop ;  but  the  mass  is  compelled  to  go  on  in  its  fury. 

But  enough ;  you  will  prefer  to  hear  the  accounts  and  the  news 
from  home.  Well,  then,  we  are  all  well.  My  father  is  constantly 
in  the  highest  state  of  excitement  over  present  events.  The 
victory  of  Custozza  fills  him  with  radiant  pride.  He  behaves  as 
if  he  had  won  it  himself.  In  any  case  he  regards  the  splendour 
of  that  day  as  so  bright  that  the  reflection  which  falls  on 
him  as  an  Austrian  and  a  general  makes  him  completely 
happy.  Lori,  too,  whose  husband,  as  you  know,  is  with 
the  Army  of  the  South,  writes  me  a  letter  of  triumph  about 
this  same  Custozza.  Do  you  recollect,  Frederick,  how  jealous 
I  was  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  about  this  same  good  Lori  ? 
And  how  I  came  out  after  that  attack  with  stronger  love 
and  stronger  trust  in  you  ?  Oh,  if  only  you  had  betrayed  me 
then ;  if  only  you  had  sometimes  a  little  ill-treated  me ;  then 
I  should  perhaps  bear  your  absence  now  more  easily.  But  to 
know  that  such  a  husband  is  in  the  storm  of  bullets  !  Let  me 
go  on  with  my  news.  Lori  has  offered  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  her  grass-widowhood  in  Grumitz,  along  with  her  little 
Beatrix.  I  could  not  say  *  no  ' ;  yet  frankly  any  society  is  at 
the  present  time  disagreeable  to  me.  I  want  to  be  alone,  alone 
with  my  longing  for  you,  the  extent  of  which  no  one  but  you 
can  measure.  Next  week  Otto  begins  his  vacation.  He  laments 
in  every  letter  that  the  war  should  have  begun  before,  instead 
of  after,  his  admission  to  officer's  rank.  He  hopes  to  God  that 
the  peace  will  not '  break  out '  before  he  leaves  the  academy. 
That  word  *  break  out '  is  not  perhaps  the  one  he  used,  but  in 
any  case  it  expresses  his  meaning,  for  peace  appears  to  him  a 
threatening  calamity.  It  is  indeed  the  way  they  are  brought 
up.  As  long  as  there  are  wars  men  must  be  brought  up  to  be 
war-loving  soldiers  ;  and  so  long  as  there  are  wai-loving  soldiers 
there  must  be  wan.     Ii  that  our  eternal,  inevitable  curcle  ? 


230  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

No,  God  be  thanked  !  For  that  love,  in  spite  of  all  school 
training,  is  constantly  diminishing.  We  found  the  proof  of  this 
diminution  in  Henry  Thomas  Buckle.  Do  not  you  recollect  ? 
But  I  don't  want  any  printed  proof;  a  glance  into  your  heart, 
your  noble  human  heart,  my  Frederick,  is  enough  to  demon- 
strate this  to  me.  Let  me  get  on  with  my  news.  From  all  our 
landed  connections  and  acquaintances  in  Bohemia  we  get  on 
all  sides  epistles  of  lamentation.  The  march  of  the  troops 
through  the  country,  even  if  they  are  marching  to  victory, 
devastates  it  and  sucks  everything  out  of  it.  And  how  if  once 
the  enemy  should  advance  into  it,  if  the  fight  should  be  played 
out  in  their  neighbourhood,  there  where  their  possessions,  their 
chateaux  and  fields  are  situated  ?  All  is  ready  for  flight,  all  their 
effects  packed  up  and  their  treasures  buried.  Adieu  to  our 
happy  tours  among  the  Bohemian  Spas ;  adieu  to  the  pleasant 
visits  to  the  country  houses ;  adieu  to  the  brilliant  autumn 
hunting  parties  ;  and,  in  any  case,  adieu  to  the  usual  revenues 
from  farms  and  businesses.  The  harvests  are  trampled  down, 
the  factories,  if  they  are  not  battered  down  and  burned,  are 
robbed  of  their  labourers.  *  It  is  indeed  a  real  misfortune,*  they 
write,  *  that  we  live  exactly  on  the  border-land ;  and  it  is  a  second 
misfortune  that  Benedek  did  not  assume  the  offensive  with  more 
vigour,  so  as  to  fight  out  the  war  in  Prussia.*  Perhaps  it 
might  also  be  called  a  misfortune  that  the  whole  political 
quarrel  could  not  have  been  adjusted  before  a  court  of  arbitra- 
tion, biit  that  the  murderous  devastation  must  be  carried  out 
on  Bohemian  or  Silesian  soil  (for  in  Silesia  also,  if  we  believe 
the  accounts  of  trustworthy  travellers,  there  are  really  men  and 
fields  and  crops).     But  that  idea  does  not  occur  to  anybody  1 

"  My  little  Rudolf  is  sitting  at  my  feet  while  I  am  writing. 
He  sends  you  a  kiss,  and  his  love  to  our  dear  Puxl.  We  both 
miss  him  much,  the  good,  merry  little  dog  ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  would  have  missed  his  master  sadly,  and  he  will  be  a 
diversion  and  a  companion  to  you.  Give  Puxl  both  our  loves, 
I  shake  his  paw,  and  Rudi  kisses  his  dear  black  snout. 

"  And  now,  good-bye  for  to-day,  my  all  on  earth  t  " 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  Austrian  reverses  increase. — Sketches  from  the  seat  of  war, 
s/iowing  its  realities,  as  viewed  by  a  soldier  who  abhors 
war. — Death  of  poor  PuxL — My  husband  avows  his 
determination  never  to  serve  in  another  campaign, 

"  Never  was  such  a  thing  heard  of— defeat  after  defeat.  First 
the  village  of  Podol,  barricaded  by  Clam-Gallas,  carried  by 
storm,  taken  in  the  night  by  moonlight,  and  by  the  light  of  the 
conflagration.  Then  Gitchin  conquered.  The  needle-gun, 
the  cursed  needle-gun,  mows  our  troops  down  by  whole  ranks  at 
a  time.  The  two  great  army  corps  of  the  enemy,  that  com- 
manded by  the  Crown  Prince  and  that  under  Prince  Fr.  Karl, 
have  joined,  and  are  pressing  forward  against  Miinchengratz." 
Thus  sounded  the  terrible  news,  and  my  father  communicated 
it  with  as  great  a  degree  of  lamentation  as  he  had  shown 
joy  in  telling  us  the  victorious  news  from  Custozza.  But  his 
confidence  was  not  yet  shaken. 

"  Let  them  come,  all  of  them,  all,  into  our  Bohemia,  and  be 
annihilated  there,  to  the  last  man.  There  is  no  escape  there, 
no  retreat  for  them  ;  we  hem  them  in,  we  encircle  them,  and  the 
enraged  country  folks  themselves  will  give  them  the  finishing 
stroke.  It  is  not  altogether  so  advantageous  as  you  might  sup- 
pose to  operate  in  an  enemy's  country ;  for  in  that  case  you 
have  not  only  the  army  but  the  whole  population  against  you. 
The  people  poured  boiling  water  and  oil  on  the  Prussians  from 
the  windows  of  the  houses  at .* 

I  uttered  a  low  sound  of  disgjust. 

(^30 


vi 


231  LAY  DOWN   TOUR   ARMS. 

"What  would  you  have?*'  said  my  father,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.     "  It  is  horrible,  I  grant,  but  it  is  war." 

**  Then  at  least  never  assert  that  war  ennobles  men.  Confess 
that  it  unmans  them,  makes  them  tigers,  devils.  Boiling  oil ! 
Uh!" 

"  Self-defence,  which  is  enjoined  on  us,  and  righteous  retri* 
bution,  my  dear  Martha.  Do  you  think  that  our  people  like 
the  bullets  of  their  needle-guns  ?  Our  brave  fellows  have  to  be 
exposed,  like  defenceless  cattle  in  a  slaughter-house,  to  this 
murderous  weapon.  But  we  are  too  numerous,  too  disciplined, 
too  warlike,  not  to  conquer  these  '  tailors  *  for  all  that.  At  the 
beginning  one  or  two  failures  have  taken  place ;  that  I  admit. 
Benedek  ought  to  have  crossed  the  Prussian  frontier  at  once. 
I  have  my  doubts  whether  this  choice  of  a  general  was  quite 
a  happy  one.  If  it  had  been  determined  to  send  the  Arch- 
duke Albert  there  and  give  Benedek  the  Army  of  the  South — 
but  I  will  not  despond  too  soon.  Up  to  the  present  there  have 
really  been  only  some  preliminary  engagements  which  have  been 
magnified  by  the  Prussians  into  great  victories.  The  decisive 
battles  are  still  to  come.  We  are  now  concentrating  on  Konig- 
gratz ;  there  we  shall  await  the  enemy,  a  hundred  thousand 
strong.     There  our  northern  Custozza  will  be  fought." 

Frederick  was  to  fight  there  too.  His  last  letter,  arrived  that 
morning,  brought  the  news  :  *'  We  are  bound  for  Kbniggratz  '*. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  had  tidings  regularly.  Though  in  his 
first  letter  he  had  prepared  me  for  his  being  able  only  to  write 
little,  yet  Frederick  had  made  use  of  every  opportunity  to  send 
me  a  word  or  two.  In  pencil,  on  horseback,  in  his  tent,  in  a 
hasty  scrawl  only  legible  by  me,  he  would  write  on  pages  torn 
out  of  his  note-book  letters  destined  for  me.  Some  he  found 
opportunities  for  sending,  and  some  did  not  come  into  my 
hands  till  the  campaign  was  over. 

I  have  kept  these  memorials  up  to  the  present  hour.  They 
are  not  careful,  polished  descriptions  of  the  war,  such  as  the 
war  correspondents  of  the  papers  offer  in  their  despatches,  or 
the  historians  of  the  war  in  their  publications ;  no  sketches  of 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR   ARM!.  S33 

battles  worked  up  with  all  the  technicalities  of  strategical 
details;  no  battle-pictures  heightened  with  rhetorical  flights, 
in  which  the  narrator  is  always  occupied  in  letting  his  own 
imperturbability,  heroism,  and  patriotic  enthusiasm  shine  out 
Frederick's  sketches  are  nothing  of  this  sort,  I  know.  But  what 
they  are,  I  need  not  decide.     Here  are  some  of  them  : — 

"  In  bivouac.  Outside  the  tent,  it  is  indeed  a  mild,  splendid 
summer  night ;  the  heavens,  so  great  and  so  indifferent,  full  of 
shining  stars.  The  men  are  Ijring  on  the  earth,  exhausted  by 
their  long,  fatiguing  marches.  Only  for  us,  staff  officers,  have 
one  or  two  tents  been  pitched.  In  mine  there  are  three  field- 
beds.  My  two  comrades  are  asleep.  I  am  sitting  at  the  table, 
on  which  are  the  empty  grog  glasses  and  a  lighted  candle.  It 
is  by  the  feeble,  flickering  light  of  this  (a  draught  of  wind  comes 
in  through  the  open  flap)  that  I  am  writing  to  you,  my  beloved 
wife.  I  have  left  my  bed  to  Puxl,  he  was  so  tired,  the  poor 
fellow  !  I  am  almost  sorry  I  brought  him  with  me ;  he  too  is, 
as  our  men  say  the  Prussian  Landwehr  are,  *  not  used  to  the 
hardships  and  privations  of  a  campaign  '.  Now  he  is  snoring 
sweetly  and  happily — is  dreaming,  I  fancy,  very  likely,  of  his 
friend  and  patron,  Rudolf,  Count  Dotzky.  And  I  am  dream- 
ing of  you,  Martha ;  I  am  silly,  I  know,  but  I  see  your  dear 
form  as  like  you  as  the  image  of  a  dream  sitting  in  yonder 
corner  of  the  tent  on  a  camp-stool.  What  longing  seizes  me 
to  go  thither  and  lay  my  head  on  your  bosom.  But  I  do  not 
do  so,  because  I  know  that  then  the  image  would  disappear. 

"  I  have  just  been  out  for  an  instant.  The  stars  are  shining 
as  indifferently  as  ever.  On  the  ground  a  few  shadows  are 
gliding — those  of  stragglers.  Many,  many  men  are  left  behind 
on  the  road ;  these  have  now  slipped  in  here  drawn  on  by  the 
light  of  our  watch-fires.  But  not  all ;  some  are  still  lying  in 
some  far-off  ditch  or  cornfield.  What  a  heat  it  was  during  this 
forced  march  !  The  sun  flamed  as  if  it  would  boil  your  brains, 
add  to  that  the  heavy  knapsack  and  the  heavy  musket  on  their 
galled  shoulders ;  and  yet  no  one  murmured.  But  a  few  fell 
out  and  could  not  get  up  again.    Two  or  three  succumbed  to 


234  ^^^   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

sunstroke  and  fell  dead  at  once.     Their  bodies  were  put  on  an 
ambulance  waggon. 

"  This  June  night,  however  illuminated  by  moon  and  stars, 
and  however  warm  it  may  be,  is  still  disenchanted.  There  are 
no  nightingales  or  chirping  crickets  to  be  heard,  no  scents  of 
rose  and  jasmine  to  be  breathed.  All  the  sweet  sounds  are 
drowned  by  the  noise  of  snorting  or  neighing  horses,  by  the 
men's  voices  and  the  tramp  of  the  sentries*  tread^,  all  sweet 
scents  overpowered  by  the  smell  of  the  harness  ^nd  other  bar- 
rack odours.  Still  all  that  is  nothing ;  for  now  you  do  not  hear 
the  ravens  croaking  over  their  feast,  you  do  not  smell  gun- 
powder, blood,  and  corruption.  All  that  is  coming — admajorem 
patricR  gloriam.  It  is  worth  noting  how  blind  men  are.  In 
looking  at  the  funeral  piles  which  have  been  lighted  *  for  the 
greater  glory  of  God '  in  old  times,  they  break  out  into  curses 
over  such  blind,  cruel,  senseless  fanaticism,  but  are  full  of 
admiration  for  the  corpse-strewn  battlefields  of  the  present  day. 
The  torture  chambers  of  the  dark  middle  ages  excite  their 
horror,  but  they  feel  pride  over  their  own  arsenals.  The  light 
is  burning  down — the  form  in  that  corner  has  disappeared.  I 
will  also  lie  down  to  rest,  beside  our  good  Puxl." 

"  Up  on  a  hill,  amidst  a  group  of  generals  and  high  officers, 
with  a  field-glass  at  his  eye — that  is  the  situation  in  a  war  which 
produces  the  greatest  aesthetic  effect.  The  gentlemen  who 
paint  battle  pieces  and  make  illustrations  for  the  journals 
know  this  too.  Generals  on  a  hill  reconnoitring  with  their 
glasses  are  represented  again  and  again ;  and  just  as  often 
a  leader  pressing  forward  at  the  head  of  his  troops  on  a 
horse,  as  white  and  light-stepping  as  possible,  stretching  his 
arm  out  towards  a  point  in  the  background  all  in  smoke,  and 
turning  the  head  towards  those  rushing  on  after  him,  plainly 
shouting  *  Follow  me,  lads  !  * 

"  From  my  station  on  this  hill  one  sees  really  a  piece  of  battle 
poetry.  The  picture  is  magnificent,  and  sufficiently  distant  to 
have  the  effect  of  a  real  picture,  without  the  details,  the  horrors, 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS,  235 

and  disgusts  of  the  reality ;  no  gushing  blood,  no  death-rattles, 
nothing  but  elevated  and  magnificent  effects  of  line  and  colour. 
Those  far-extended  ranks  of  the  army  corps  winding  on,  that 
unbounded  procession  of  infantry  regiments,  divisions  of 
cavalry,  and  batteries  of  artillery,  then  the  ammunition  train, 
the  requisitioned  country  waggons,  the  pack  horses,  and,  bring- 
ing up  the  rear,  the  baggage.  The  picture  comes  out  still  more 
imposing  if,  in  the  wide  country  stretched  out  beneath  the  hill, 
you  can  see,  not  merely  the  movements  of  one,  but  the  meeting 
of  two  armies.  Then  how  the  flashing  sword-blades,  the  waving 
flags,  the  horses  rearing  up  like  foaming  waves,  mingle  with 
each  other,  while  amongst  them  clouds  of  smoke  arise,  forming 
themselves  in  places  into  thick  veils  which  hide  all  the  picture, 
and  when  they  lift  show  groups  of  fighters.  Then,  as  accom- 
paniment, the  noise  of  shots  rolling  through  the  mountains, 
every  stroke  of  which  thunders  the  word  Death !  Death  ! 
Death !  through  the  air.  Yes,  that  sort  of  thing  may  well 
inspire  battle  lays.  And  for  the  composition,  too,  of  those 
contributions  to  the  history  of  the  period  which  are  to  be 
published  after  the  conclusion  of  the  campaign,  the  station  on 
the  hill-top  offers  favourable  opportunities.  There,  at  any  rate, 
the  narrative  can  be  made  out  with  some  exactness.  The  X 
Division  met  the  enemy  at  N,  drove  him  back,  reached  the 
main  bulk  of  the  army ;  strong  forces  of  the  enemy  showed 
themselves  on  the  left  flank — and  so  on,  and  so  on.  But  one 
who  is  not  on  the  hill,  peering  through  his  field-glass,  one  who 
is  himself  taking  part  in  the  action,  he  can  never,  never  relate 
the  progress  of  a  battle  in  a  way  worthy  of  belief.  He  sees, 
feels,  and  thinks  of  only  what  is  close  to  him.  All  the  rest  of 
his  narrative  is  from  intuition,  for  which  he  avails  himself  of  the 
old  formulas.  'Look,  Tilling,*  one  of  the  generals  said  to  me, 
as  I  was  standing  near  him  on  the  hill.  *  Is  not  that  striking  ? 
A  grand  army,  is  it  not  ?  Why,  what  are  you  thinking  about  ? ' 
What  was  I  thinking  about,  my  Martha?  About  you.  But 
to  my  superior  officer  I  could  not  say  so.  So  I  answered, 
with  all  due  deference,  some  untruth.     *  All  due  deference ' 


236  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

and  'truth*  have  besides  little  to  do  with  each  other.  The 
latter  is  a  very  proud  fellow,  and  turns  with  contempt  from 
all  servility." 

"  The  village  is  ours — no,  it  is  the  enemy's — ^now  ours 
again — and  yet  once  more  the  enemy's ;  but  it  is  no  longer  a 
village,  but  a  smoking  mass  of  the  ruins  of  houses. 

"The  inhabitants  (was  it  not  really  their  village  ?)  had  left  it 
previously  and  were  away — ^luckily  for  them,  for  the  fighting  in 
an  inhabited  place  is  something  really  fearful;  for  then  the 
bullets  from  friend  and  foe  fall  into  the  midst  of  the  rooms  and 
kill  women  and  children.  One  family,  however,  had  remained 
behind  in  the  place  which  yesterday  we  took,  lost,  re-took,  and 
lost  again — namely,  an  old  married  couple  and  their  daughter, 
the  latter  in  childbed.  The  husband  is  serving  in  our  regiment. 
He  told  me  the  story  as  we  were  nearing  the  village.  *  There, 
colonel,  in  that  house  with  the  red  roof,  is  living  my  wife  with 
her  old  parents.  They  have  not  been  able  to  get  away,  poor 
creatures ;  my  wife  may  be  confined  any  moment,  and  the  old 
folks  are  half-crippled ;  for  God's  sake,  colonel,  order  me  there ! ' 
Poor  devil !  he  got  there  just  in  time  to  see  the  mother  and 
child  die ;  a  shell  had  exploded  under  their  bed.  What  has 
happened  to  the  old  folks  I  do  not  know.  They  are  probably 
buried  under  the  ruins ;  the  house  was  one  of  the  first  set  on 
fire  by  the  cannonade.  Fighting  in  the  open  country  is  terrible 
enough,  but  fighting  amongst  human  dwellings  is  ten  times 
more  cruel.  Crashing  timber,  bursting  flames,  stifling  smoke  \ 
cattle  run  mad  with  fear ;  every  wall  a  fortress  or  a  barricade, 
every  window  a  shot-hole.  I  saw  a  breastwork  there  which  was 
formed  of  corpses.  The  defenders  had  heaped  up  all  the  slain 
that  were  lying  near,  in  order,  from  that  rampart,  to  fire  over  on 
to  their  assailants.  I  shall  surely  never  forget  that  wall  in  all 
my  life.  A  man,  who  formed  one  of  its  bricks,  penned  in 
among  the  other  corpse-bricks,  was  still  alive,  and  was  moving 
his  arm. 

"  *  Still  alive ' — that  ii  '%  condition,  occurring  in  war  with  a 


L4Y   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  237 

thousand  differences,  which  conceals  sufferings  incalculable. 
If  there  were  any  angel  of  mercy  hovering  over  the  battlefields 
he  would  have  enough  to  do  in  giving  the  poor  creatures — men 
and  beasts — who  are  *  still  alive '  their  coup  de  grBce.** 

"  To-day  we  had  a  little  cavalry  skirmish  in  the  open  field. 
A  Prussian  cavalry  regiment  came  forward  at  a  trot,  deployed 
into  line,  and  then,  with  their  horses  well  in  hand  and  their 
sabres  above  their  heads,  rode  down  on  us  at  a  hand  gallop. 
We  did  not  wait  for  their  attack,  but  galloped  out  against  the 
enemy.  No  shots  were  exchanged.  When  a  few  paces  from 
each  other  both  ranks  burst  out  into  a  thundering  'hurrah* 
(shouting  intoxicates ;  the  Indians  and  Zulus  know  that  even 
better  than  we  do) ;  and  so  we  rushed  on  each  other,  horse  to 
horse,  knee  to  knee ;  the  sabres  whistled  in  the  air  and  came 
down  on  the  men's  heads.  Soon  all  were  huddled  together  too 
close  to  use  their  weapons ;  then  they  struggled  breast  to  breast, 
and  the  horses,  getting  wild  and  frightened,  snorted  and  plunged, 
reared  up,  and  struck  about  them.  I  too  was  on  the  ground 
once,  and  saw — no  very  pleasant  sight — a  horse's  hoof  striking 
out  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  my  temples." 


"  Another  day  of  marching,  with  one  or  two  skirmishes.  I 
have  experienced  a  great  sorrow.  Such  a  mournful  picture 
accompanies  me.  Among  the  many  pictures  of  woe  which 
are  all  around  me  this  ought  not  so  to  strike  me,  ought  not  to 
give  me  such  pain.  But  I  cannot  help  it ;  it  touches  me 
nearly,  and  I  cannot  shake  it  off.  Puxl — our  poor,  happy, 
good,  little  dog — oh,  if  I  had  only  left  him  at  home  with  his 
little  master,  Rudolfl  He  was  running  after  us,  as  usual. 
Suddenly  he  gave  a  shriek  of  pain  ;  the  splinter  of  a  shell  had 
torn  off  his  fore-leg.  He  could  not  come  after  us,  so  is  left 
behind,  and  is  *  still  alive'.  Between  twenty-four  and  forty- 
eight  hours  have  passed,  and  he  is  *  still  alive  *.  *  Oh  master  ! 
my  good  master  I '  his  cries  seemed  to  say.  *  Do  not  leave 
poor  Puxl  here  I     His  heart  will  break  ! '     And  what  especially 


238  L4T  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

pains  me  is  the  thought  that  the  fiiithful  dying  creature  musl 
misunderstand  me.  For  he  saw  that  I  turned  round,  that  I 
must  have  understood  his  cry  for  help  and  yet  was  so  cold  and 
so  cruel  as  to  leave  him  there.  Poor  Puxl  could  not  under- 
stand that  a  regiment  advancing  to  the  attack,  out  of  whose 
ranks  comrades  are  falling  and  are  left  on  the  ground,  cannot 
be  ordered  to  halt  for  the  sake  of  a  dog  who  has  been  hit  He 
has  no  conception  of  the  higher  duty  which  I  had  to  obey : 
and  so  the  poor  true  heart  of  the  dog  is  complaining  of  my 
unmercifulness.  Only  think  of  troubling  oneself  about  such 
trumpery  in  the  midst  of  the  'great  events*  and  gigantic 
misfortunes  which  fill  the  present  time.  That  is  what  many 
would  say,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders ;  but  not  you,  Martha, 
not  you.  I  know  that  a  tear  will  come  into  your  eyes  for  our 
poor  Puxl." 

"  What  is  happening  there  ?  The  execution  party  is 
drawn  out  Has  a  spy  been  caught  ?  One  ?  Seventeen  this 
time.  There  they  come,  in  four  ranks,  each  one  of  four  men, 
surrounded  by  a  square  of  soldiers.  The  condemned  men 
step  out,  with  their  heads  down.  Behind  comes  a  cart  with  a 
corpse  in  it ;  and  bound  to  the  corpse  the  dead  man's  son — a 
boy  of  twelve,  also  condemned. 

"  I  could  not  look  on  at  the  execution,  and  withdrew ;  but  1 
heard  the  firing.  A  cloud  of  smoke  rose  from  behind  the  walls. 
All  were  dead,  the  boy  included." 

"At  last  a  comfortable  night's  lodging  in  a  little  town  I  The 
poor  little  nest  I  Provisions,  which  were  to  have  served  the 
people  for  months,  we  have  taken  on  requisition.  *  Requisi- 
tion 1 '  Well,  it  is  one  good  thing  to  have  a  pretty  recognised 
name  for  a  thing.  However,  I  was  at  least  glad  to  have  got  a 
good  night's  lodging  and  a  good  night's  food ;  and — let  me  tell 
you  a  story  : — 

"I  was  just  going  to  lie  down  in  bed,  when  my  orderly 
announced  that  a  man  of  my  regiment  was  there,  and  earnestly 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  S39 

begged  for  admission,  as  he  had  something  for  me.  •  Well, 
let  him  come  in  ; '  and  the  man  entered.  And  before  he  went 
out  I  had  rewarded  him  handsomely,  shaken  him  by  both  hands, 
and  promised  to  look  after  his  wife  and  children.  For  what  he 
brought  me,  the  fine  fellow,  had  given  me  the  greatest  pleasure, 
and  had  freed  me  from  a  pain  under  which  I  had  been  suffer- 
ing for  the  last  thirty-six  hours.  It  was  my  Puxl.  Injured,  it 
is  true — honourably  wounded — but  still  alive,  and  so  happy  to 
be  with  his  master,  by  whose  behaviour  he  must  certainly  have 
seen  that  he  had  been  wrong  in  charging  him  with  want  of 
fondness  for  him.  Ah,  that  was  indeed  a  scene  of  re-union. 
First  of  all,  a  drink  of  water  I  How  good  it  was  I  He  inter- 
rupted his  greedy  drinking  ten  times  to  bark  out  his  joy  to  me. 
Then  I  bound  up  the  stump  of  his  leg  for  him,  set  before  him 
a  tasty  supper  of  meat  and  cheese,  and  put  him  to  sleep  on 
my  bed.  We  both  slept  well.  In  the  morning  when  I  woke 
he  licked  my  hand  again  and  again  in  token  of  thanks.  Then 
he  stretched  out  his  poor  little  leg,  breathed  deep,  and — was 
no  more.     Poor  Puxl  1     It  is  better  so." 

"  What  is  all  I  have  seen  to-day  ?  If  I  shut  my  eyes,  what 
has  passed  before  them  comes  with  terrible  distinctness  into  my 
memory.  *  Nothing  but  pain  and  pictures  of  horror,'  you  will 
say.  Why  then  do  other  men  bring  such  fresh,  such  joyful 
images  away  with  them  from  war  ?  Ah,  yes  I  These  others 
close  their  eyes  to  the  pain  and  the  horror.  They  say  nothing 
about  them.  If  they  write,  or  if  they  narrate,  they  give  them- 
selves no  trouble  to  paint  their  experiences  after  nature  ;  but 
they  occupy  themselves  in  imitating  descriptions  which  they 
have  read,  and  which  they  take  as  models,  and  in  bringing  out 
those  impressions  which  are  considered  heroic.  If  they  occa- 
sionally tell  also  of  scenes  of  destruction,  which  contain  in 
themselves  the  bitterest  pain  and  the  bitterest  terror,  nothing 
of  either  is  to  be  discovered  in  their  tone.  On  the  contrary, 
the  more  terrible  the  more  indifferent  are  they,  the  more 
horrible  the  more  easy.     Disapprobation,  anger,  excitement  ? 


240  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

Nothing  of  all  this.  Well,  perhaps  instead  of  this,  a  slight 
breath  of  sentimental  pity,  a  few  sighs  of  compassion.  But 
their  heads  are  soon  in  the  air  again.  *  The  heart  to  God,  and 
the  hand  against  the  foe.'     Hurrah,  Tra-ra-ra  ! 

"  Now  look  at  two  of  the  pictures  which  impressed  themselves 
on  me. 

"  Steep,  rocky  heights.  Jagers  nimble  as  cats  climbing  up 
them.  The  object  was  to  *  take  *  the  heights,  from  the  top  of 
which  the  enemy  was  firing.  What  I  see  are  the  forms 
of  the  assailants  who  are  climbing  up,  and  some  of  them 
who  are  hit  by  the  enemy's  shot,  suddenly  stretch  both 
arms  out,  let  their  muskets  fall,  and  with  their  heads  falling 
backwards,  drop  off  the  height,  step  by  step,  from  one  rocky 
point  to  another,  smashing  their  limbs  to  pieces. 

"  I  see  a  horseman  at  some  distance  obliquely  behind  me, 
at  whose  side  a  shell  burst  His  horse  swerved  aside,  and  came 
against  the  tail  of  mine,  then  shot  past  me.  The  man  sat  still 
in  the  saddle,  but  a  fragment  of  the  shell  had  ripped  his  belly 
open,  and  torn  all  the  intestines  out.  The  upper  part  of  his 
body  was  held  on  to  the  lower  only  by  the  spine.  From  the 
ribs  to  the  thighs  nothing  but  one  great  bleeding  cavity.  A 
short  distance  further  he  fell  to  the  ground,  with  one  foot  still 
clinging  in  the  stirrup,  and  the  galloping  horse  dragging  him  on 
over  the  stony  soil*' 

•        •         •••••••• 

"  An  artillery  division  is  sticking  fast  in  a  part  of  the  road 
which  is  steep  and  soaked  with  rain.  The  guns  are  sinking 
deeper  than  their  wheels  in  the  morass.  It  is  only  with  the 
most  extreme  exertion,  dripping  with  sweat,  and  animated  by 
the  most  unmerciful  flogging,  that  the  horses  can  get  forward. 
One,  however,  dead  beat  before,  now  can  do  no  more. 
Thumping  him  does  no  good ;  he  is  quite  willing,  but  he 
cannot.  He  literally  can  not.  Cannot  that  man  see  this,  whose 
blows  are  raining  down  on  the  poor  beast's  head  ?  If  the  cruel 
brute  had  been  the  driver  of  a  waggon  in  the  service  of  some 
builder,  any  peace  officer,  even  I  myself,  would  have  bad  him 


LAT  DOWN  TOUK  ARMS.  241 

arrested  But  this  gnnner,  who  has  to  get  his  death-laden 
carriage  forward  anyhow,  is  only  doing  his  duty.  The  horse, 
however,  cannot  know  this.  The  tortured,  well-meaning,  noble 
creature,  who  has  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  limit  of  his 
vital  power,  what  must  he  think  in  his  inmost  heart  of  such 
hard-heartedness  and  such  want  of  sense  ?  Think,  as  animals 
do  think,  not  in  words  and  conceptions,  but  in  feelings,  and 
feelings  which  are  all  the  more  lively  for  wanting  expression. 
There  is  but  one  expression  for  it,  the  shriek  of  pain ;  and  he 
did  shriek,  that  poor  horse,  till  at  last  he  sank  down,  a  shriek 
so  long  drawn  and  so  resounding,  that  it  still  rings  in  my  ear, 
that  it  haunted  me  in  my  dream  the  next  night — ^a  horrible 
dream  in  other  respects.  I  thought  that  I  was — how  can  I  ever 
tell  you  the  story?  dreams  are  so  senseless  that  language 
conformable  to  sense  is  hardly  adapted  to  their  reproduction — 
that  I  was  the  sense  of  pain  in  such  an  artillery  horse — no,  not 
one,  but  in  100,000,  for  in  my  dream  I  had  quickly  summed 
up  the  number  of  the  horses  slaughtered  in  one  campaign, 
and  thus  this  pain  multiplied  its  effect  at  once  a  hundred- 
thousandfold.  The  men  knoiv  at  least  why  their  lives  are 
exposed  to  danger.  They  know  whither  they  are  going,  and 
what  for  ;  but  we  poor  unfortunates  know  nothing — all  around 
us  is  night  and  horror.  The  men  seem  to  go  with  pleasure  to 
meet  their  foes,  but  we  are  surrounded  by  foes — our  own 
masters,  whom  we  would  love  so  truly,  to  serve  whom  we  spend 
our  last  energies,  they  rain  blows  on  us,  they  leave  us  lying 
helpless ;  and  all  that  we  have  to  suffer  besides,  the  fear 
that  makes  the  sweat  of  agony  run  from  our  whole  body,  the 
thirst — for  we  too  suffer  from  fever — oh,  that  thirst  I  the  thirst 
of  us  poor  bleeding,  maltreated  100,000  horses  1  .  .  .  Here  I 
woke,  and  clutched  the  water  bottle.  I  was  myself  suffering 
from  burning,  feverish  thirst" 

"Another  street  fight  in  the  little  town  of  Saar.  To  the 
noise  of  the  battle-cries  and  the  shots  is  joined  the  crashing  of 
timber  and  the  falling  of  walls.     A  shell  burst  in  one  of  the 

16 


242  LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

houses,  and  the  pressure  of  the  air,  caused  by  its  explosion,  was 
so  powerful  that  several  soldiers  were  wounded  by  the  ruins  of 
the  house  which  were  borne  along  by  the  air.  A  window  flew 
over  my  head  with  the  window-sash  still  in  it.  The  chimney- 
stack  tumbled  down,  the  plaster  crumbled  into  dust  and  filled 
the  air*with  a  stifling  cloud  that  stung  one's  eyes.  From  one 
lane  to  another  (how  the  hoofs  rang  on  the  jagged  pavements) 
the  fight  wound  on,  and  reached  the  market-place.  In  the 
middle  of  the  square  stands  a  high  pillar  of  the  Virgin.  The 
Mother  of  God  holds  her  child  in  one  arm  and  stretches  the 
other  out  in  blessing.  Here  the  fight  was  prolonged — man  to 
man.  They  were  hacking  at  me,  I  was  laying  about  me  on  all 
sides.  Whether  I  hit  one  or  more  of  them  I  know  not :  in 
such  moments  one  does  not  retain  much  perception.  Still  two 
cases  are  photographed  on  my  soul,  and  I  fear  that  the  market- 
place at  Saar  will  remain  always  burned  into  my  memory.  A 
Prussian  dragoon,  strong  as  Goliath,  tore  one  of  our  officers  (a 
pretty,  dandified  lieutenant — ^how  many  girls  are  perhaps  mad 
after  him)  out  of  his  saddle,  and  split  his  skull  at  the  feet  of  the 
Virgin's  pillar.  The  gentle  saint  looked  on  unmoved.  Another 
of  the  enemy's  dragoons — a  Goliath  too — seized,  just  before  me 
almost,  my  right-hand  man,  and  bent  him  backwards  in  his 
saddle  so  powerfully  that  he  broke  his  back — I  myself  heard  it 
crack.    To  this  also  the  Madonna  gave  her  stony  blessing." 


"From  a  height  to-day  the  field-glass  of  the  staff  officer 
commanded  once  more  a  scene  rich  in  changes.  There  was, 
for  instance,  the  collapse  of  a  bridge  as  a  train  of  waggons  was 
moving  across  it.  Did  the  latter  contain  wounded  ?  I  do  not 
know.  I  could  not  ascertain.  I  only  saw  that  the  whole  train 
— waggons,  horses,  and  men — sank  into  the  deep  and  rushing 
stream  and  there  disappeared.  The  event  was  a  *  fortunate ' 
one,  since  the  train  of  waggons  belonged  to  the  *  blacks '.  In 
the  game  now  being  played  I  designate  *  us '  as  the  white  side. 
rhe  bridge  did  not  collapse  by  accident ;  the  whites,  knowing 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  243 

that  their  adversaries  had  to  cross  it,  had  sawn  through  the 
pillars — a  dexterous  stroke  that. 

**  A  second  prospect,  on  the  other  hand,  which  one  might 
view  from  the  same  height  represented  one  of  the  follies  of 
the  "  whites  ".  Our  Khevenhiiller  Regiment  was  directed  into 
a  morass,  from  which  it  could  not  extricate  itself,  and  they  were 
all,  except  a  few,  shot  down.  The  wounded  fell  into  the 
morass,  and  there  had  to  sink  and  be  smothered,  their  mouth, 
nose,  and  eyes  filled  with  mud,  so  that  they  could  not  even 
utter  a  cry.  Oh  yes  !  it  must  be  admitted  to  have  been  an  error 
of  the  man  who  commanded  the  troops  to  go  there  ;  but  *  to  err 
is  human,*  and  the  loss  is  not  a  great  one — might  represent  a 
pawn  taken — a  speedy,  lucky  move  of  castle  or  queen,  and  all 
is  right  again.  The  mud,  it  is  true,  remains  in  the  mouth  and 
eyes  of  the  fallen,  but  that  is  a  very  secondary  consideration. 
What  is  reprehensible  is  the  tactical  error;  that  has  to  be 
wiped  out  by  some  later  fortunate  combination,  and  then  the 
leader  implicated  in  it  may  still  be  decorated  with  grand  orders 
and  promotions.  That  lately  our  i8th  battalion  of  Jagers  in  a 
night  battle  was  firing  for  several  hours  on  our  King  of  Prussia 
Regiment,  and  the  error  was  not  found  out  till  break  of  day ; 
that  a  part  of  the  Gyulai  Regiment  was  led  into  a  pond — these 
are  little  oversights,  such  as  may  happen  even  to  the  best 
playeri  in  the  heat  of  a  game.'' 

"  It  is  decided — ^if  I  come  back  fi-om  this  campaign,  I  quit 
the  service.  Setting  everything  else  aside,  if  one  has  learned  to 
regard  anything  with  such  horror  as  war  produces  in  me,  it 
would  be  a  continual  lie  to  keep  in  the  service  of  that  thing. 
Even  before  this,  I  went,  as  you  know,  to  battle  unwillingly, 
and  with  a  judgment  condemnatory  of  it ;  but  now  this  un- 
willingness has  so  increased,  this  condemnation  has  become  so 
strengthened,  that  all  the  reasons  which  before  determined  me 
to  persevere  with  my  profession  have  ceased  to  operate.  The 
sentiments  derived  from  my  youthful  training,  and  perhaps  also, 
to  some  extent,  inherited,  which  still  pleaded  with  me  in  iavoui 


244  '^'^   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

of  the  military  life,  have  now  quite  departed  from  me  in  the 
course  of  the  horrors  I  have  just  experienced.  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  is  the  studies,  which  I  undertook  in  common  with 
you,  and  from  which  I  discovered  that  my  contempt  for  war  is 
not  an  isolated  feeling,  but  is  shared  by  the  best  spirits  of  the 
age,  or  whether  it  is  the  conversations  I  have  had  with  you,  in 
which  I  have  strengthened  myself  in  my  views  by  their  free 
expression  and  your  concurrence  in  them ;  in  one  word,  my 
former  vague,  half-smothered  feeling  has  changed  into  a  clear 
conviction,  a  conviction  which  makes  it  from  this  time 
impossible  to  do  service  to  the  war  god.  It  is  the  same  kind 
of  change  as  comes  to  many  people  in  matters  of  belief. 
First  they  are  somewhat  sceptical  and  indifferent,  still  they 
can  assist  at  the  business  of  the  temple  with  a  certain  sense  of 
reverence.  But  when  once  all  mysticism  is  put  aside,  when 
they  rise  to  the  perception  that  the  ceremony  which  they 
are  attending  rests  on  folly,  and  sometimes  on  cruel  folly,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  religious  death-sacrifices,  then  they  will  no  longer 
kneel  beside  the  other  befooled  folks,  no  longer  deceive  them- 
selves and  the  world  by  entering  the  now  desecrated  temple. 
This  is  the  process  which  has  gone  on  with  me  in  relation  to 
the  cruel  worship  of  Mars.  The  mysterious,  supernatural,  awe- 
inspiring  feeling  which  the  appearance  of  this  deity  generally 
awakes  in  men,  and  which  in  former  times  obscured  my  senses 
also,  has  now  entirely  passed  away  for  me.  The  liturgy  of  the 
bulletins  and  the  ritual  of  heroic  phraseology  no  longer  appear 
to  me  as  a  divine  revelation ;  the  mighty  organ-voice  of  the 
cannon,  the  incense- smoke  of  the  powder  have  no  charm  more 
for  me.  I  assist  at  the  terrible  worship  perfectly  devoid  of 
belief  or  reverence,  and  can  now  see  nothing  in  it  except 
the  tortures  of  the  victims,  hear  nothing  but  their  wailing 
death-cries.  And  thence  comes  it  that  these  pages,  which  I 
am  filling  with  my  impressions  of  war,  contain  nothing  except 
pain  seen  with  pain.*' 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Ruin  of  the  Austrian  cause  at  Koniggrdtz, — Dr.  Bresser  at  the 
seat  of  war, — I  resolve  to  join  him  and  seek  for  my  husband. 
— Aspect  of  the  railway  station  and  line  in  a  time  of  defeat. 
— The  journey, — The  regimental  surgeon^ s  experiences  of  the 
horrors  of  war. — I  arrive  at  the  seat  of  war  and  meet  Dr. 
Bresser  and  Frau  Simon. — Night  journey  to  Horonewos. — 
The  horrors  I  saw  there. — I  sink  exhausted  under  them^ 
and  am  carried  back  by  Dr,  Bresser  to  Vienna. — My  father 
takes  me  home^  and  there  I  am  joined  by  my  husband^  who 
had  been  wounded. 

The  battle  of  Koniggratz  had  been  fought  Another  defeat  1 
And  this  time  as  it  seemed  a  decisive  one.  My  father  com- 
municated the  news  to  us  in  such  a  tone  as  he  would  have 
used  in  announcing  the  end  of  the  world. 

And  no  letter,  no  telegram  from  Frederick.  Was  he  wounded  ? 
dead?  Conrad  gave  his  fiancie  news  of  himself — he  was 
untouched.  The  lists  of  the  slain  had  not  yet  arrived,  it  was 
only  known  that  there  were  40,000  killed  and  wounded  at 
Koniggratz;  and  the  latest  news  I  had  had  ran:  "We  are 
moving  to-day  to  Koniggratz'*. 

On  the  third  day  still  not  a  line.  I  wept  and  wept  for  hours : 
I  could  weep  just  because  my  grief  was  not  quite  hopeless ;  if 
I  had  known  that  all  was  over,  there  would  have  been  no  tears 
for  my  load  of  woe.  My  father  too  was  deeply  depressed. 
And  my  brother  Otto  was  mad  with  thirst  for  revenge.  It  was 
announced  that  corps  of  volunteers  were  to  be  formed  in  Vienna. 
He  wanted  to  join  them.    It  was  further  announced  that 

(»45) 


246  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

Benedek  was  to  be  removed  from  his  command  and  the 
victorious  Archduke  Albert  summoned  to  the  north  to  take  his 
place,  and  then  perhaps  there  might  yet  be  a  rally ;  the  over- 
weening enemy,  who  wanted  altogether  to  annihilate  us,  might 
be  beaten  back,  as  he  would  be  caught  on  his  march  on  Vienna. 
Fear,  rage,  pain  filled  all  minds ;  all  pronounced  the  name  of 
"the  Prussians"  as  if  they  were  all  that  is  detestable.  My 
only  thought  was  Frederick — and  no  news — none  I 

A  few  days  afterwards  arilved  a  letter  from  Dr.  Bresscr.  He 
was  busy  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  battlefield  in  giving  what 
assistance  he  could.  The  need,  he  wrote,  was  without  limit, 
mocking  all  power  of  imagination.  He  had  joined  a  Saxon 
physician,  Dr.  Brauer,  who  had  been  despatched  by  his  govern- 
ment to  give  them  information  from  actual  inspection  on  the 
state  of  afiairs.  In  two  days  a  Saxon  lady  was  to  arrive — Frau 
Simon,  a  new  Miss  Nightingale — who  since  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  had  been  busy  in  the  hospitals  of  Dresden,  and  who  had 
offered  to  undertake  the  journey  to  the  fields  of  battle  in 
Bohemia  in  order  to  render  assistance  in  the  hospitals  adjacent. 
Dr.  Brauer,  and  Dr.  Bresser  with  him,  were  going,  on  a  day 
named,  at  seven  in  the  evening,  to  Koniginhof,  the  nearest 
station  to  Koniggr'atz  to  which  the  railway  was  still  open,  to 
await  the  courageous  lady  there.  Bresser  begged  us  to  send  if 
possible  a  quantity  of  bandages  and  such  things  to  that  station, 
so  that  he  might  receive  them  there  himself. 

I  had  hardly  read  this  letter  before  my  resolution  was  taken. 
I  would  take  the  box  of  bandages  myself.  In  one  of  those 
hospitals  which  Frau  Simon  was  to  visit  possibly  lay  Frederick. 
I  would  join  her  and  find  the  dear  sufferer — ^nurse  him — save 
him.  The  idea  seized  me  with  compelling  force — so  compelling 
that  I  held  it  to  be  a  magnetic  influence  from  afar,  derived 
from  the  longing  wish  with  which  the  dear  one  was  calling 
for  me. 

Without  telling  any  one  in  my  family  of  my  purpose — for 
I  should  only  have  encountered  resistance  on  all  hands — I 
tmbarked  on  the  journey  a  few  hours  after  the  receipt  of  Bresser'i 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  247 

letter.  I  had  given  out  that  I  wanted  to  look  out  the  things 
which  the  doctor  required,  in  Vienna,  and  send  them  off  myself, 
and  so  I  managed  to  get  away  from  Grumitz  without  difficulty. 
From  Vienna  I  meant  to  write  to  my  father  "  I  am  off  to  the 
seat  of  war  ".  It  is  true  that  doubts  arose  in  me — my  incapacity 
and  want  of  experience,  my  horror  of  wounds,  blood,  and  death 
— but  I  chased  these  doubts  away.  What  I  was  doing  I  was 
compelled  to  do.  The  gaze  of  my  husband  was  fixed  on  me, 
in  prayer  and  supplication.  From  his  bed  of  pain  he  was 
stretching  his  arms  out  after  me,  and  "  I  am  coming,  I  am 
coming,"  was  all  I  was  able  to  think  of. 

I  found  the  city  of  Vienna  in  unspeakable  excitement  and 
confusion.  Disturbed  faces  all  round  me.  My  carriage  came 
across  a  number  of  carriages  full  of  wounded  men.  I  was 
always  looking  to  see  whether  Frederick  might  be  among  them. 
But  no  !  His  longing  cry,  which  vibrated  in  my  vitals,  rang 
from  far  away,  from  Bohemia.  If  he  had  been  sent  off  home 
the  news  would  have  come  to  us  simultaneously. 

I  drove  to  an  hotel.  From  thence  I  went  to  look  after  my 
purchases,  sent  the  letter  which  I  had  prepared  for  Grumitz, 
got  myself  equipped  in  a  travelling  costume  most  adapted  for 
rough  work,  and  drove  to  the  Northern  Station.  I  wanted 
to  take  the  first  train  that  was  starting,  so  as  to  reach  my 
destination  in  good  time.  I  had  a  single  fixed  idea  under 
whose  domination  I  carried  out  all  my  movements. 

At  the  station  all  was  in  a  bustle  of  life,  or  should  I  say  a  bustle 
of  death  ?  The  halls,  the  waiting-room,  the  platform,  all  full  of 
wounded,  some  of  them  at  their  last  gasp.  And  a  corresponding 
crowd  of  people,  sick  nurses,  soldiers  of  the  sanitary  depart- 
ment, sisters  of  mercy,  physicians,  men  and  women  of  all  ranks 
and  occupations,  who  had  come  there  to  see  whether  the  last 
train  had  brought  one  of  their  relations  ;  or  again,  to  distribute 
presents,  wine  and  cigars,  among  the  wounded.  The  officials 
and  servants,  busy  everywhere  in  pushing  back  the  folks  who 
were  pushing  forward.     They  wanted  to  send  me  off  too. 

"  What  do  you  want  there  ?     Make  way  I  you  are  forbidden 


248  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

to  give  out  things  to  eat  and  drink.  Go  to  the  committee ) 
your  presents  will  be  taken  in  there." 

"  No,  no,*'  I  said  ;  **  I  want  to  set  off.  When  does  the  next 
train  start  ?  " 

It  was  long  before  I  could  get  information  in  reply  to  this. 
Most  of  the  departure  trains,  I  found  at  last,  were  suspended, 
in  order  to  keep  the  line  open  for  the  arrival  trains  which  were 
coming  in,  one  after  another,  laden  with  the  wounded.  For 
the  day  there  were  absolutely  no  more  passenger  trains.  There 
was  only  one  with  the  reserve  troops  that  were  being  sent 
forward,  and  another  exclusively  reserved  for  the  service 
of  the  Patriotic  Aid  Society,  which  had  to  take  away  a 
number  of  physicians  and  sisters  of  mercy,  and  a  cargo  of 
necessary  material  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Koniggratz. 

"  And  could  not  I  go  by  that  train  ?  " 

"  Impossible.** 

I  heard,  ever  plainer  and  more  beseeching,  Frederick's  cry 
for  help,  and  could  not  get  to  him.  It  was  enough  to  drive 
one  to  despair.     Then  I  espied  at  the  entrance  of  the  hall 

Baron   S ,   vice-president   of  the   Patriotic  Aid    Society, 

whose  acquaintance  I  had  first  made  in  the  year  of  the  war 
of  *59.     I  hastened  to  him. 

"For  God*s  sake,   Baron  S ,  help  me      Surely  you 

recognise  me  ?  ** 

"  Baroness  Tilling,  the  daughter  of  General  Count  Althaus. 
Of  course,  I  have  that  honour.  Wha^t  can  I  do  to  serve 
you?" 

"  You  are  sending  off  a  train  to  Bohemia,  Let  me  travel 
by  it !  My  djring  husband  is  pining  for  me.  If  you  have  a 
heart — ^and  your  action  surely  proves  how  fah:  and  noble  your 
heart  is — do  not  reject  my  prayer  1  ** 

There  were  still  all  kinds  of  doubts  and  difficulties,  but  in 

the  end  my  wish  was  granted.     Baron  S called  one  of  the 

physicians  despatched  by  the  Aid  Society,  and  recommended 
me  to  his  protection  as  a  fellow-traveller. 

There  was  still  an  hour  before  our  departure.    I  wanted  to 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  349 

go  into  the  waiting-room,  but  every  available  space  had  been 
turned  into  an  hospital.  Wherever  you  looked,  you  saw  cower- 
ing, prostrate,  bandaged,  pale  forms.  I  could  not  look  at 
them.  The  little  energy  which  I  possessed  I  had  to  save  up 
for  my  journey,  and  for  its  object.  I  could  not  venture  to 
ei^pend  here  anything  of  the  stock  of  strength,  of  compassion, 
Of  of  power  of  assistance  which  was  at  my  command — ^all 
belonged  to  him — to  him  who  was  calling  for  me. 

Meantime,  there  was  no  corner  to  be  found  in  which  a 
painful  scene  could  be  spared  me.  I  had  taken  refuge  on  the 
platform,  and  there  I  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  most 
grievous  of  all  sights,  the  arrival  of  a  long  train,  all  whose 
carriages  were  full  of  wounded,  and  the  disembarkation  of  the 
latter.  The  less  seriously  wounded  got  out  by  themselves,  and 
managed  to  get  themselves  forward ;  but  most  had  to  be 
supported,  or  even  carried  altogether.  The  available  stretchers 
were  at  once  occupied,  and  the  remaining  patients  had  to 
wait  till  the  bearers  returned,  lying  on  the  floor.  Before  my 
feet,  at  the  spot  where  I  was  sitting  on  a  box,  they  laid  a  man 
who  made,  without  cessation,  a  continuous  gurgling  sound.  I 
bent  down  to  speak  a  word  of  sympathy  to  him,  but  I  started 
back  in  horror,  and  covered  my  face  with  both  hands.  The 
impression  on  me  had  been  too  fearful.  It  was  no  longer  a 
human  countenance — ^the  lower  jaw  shot  away,  one  eye  welling 
out,  and,  added  to  that,  a  stifling  reek  of  blood  and  corruption. 
I  should  have  liked  to  jump  up  and  run  away,  but  I  was  deadly 
sick,  and  my  head  fell  back  against  the  wall  behind  me.  **  Oh 
what  a  cowardly,  feeble  creature  I  am,"  I  said,  reproaching 
myself ;  "  what  have  I  to  do  in  these  abodes  of  misery,  where  I 
can  do  nothing,  nothing,  to  help,  and  am  exposed  to  such 
disgust?''  Only  the  thought  of  Frederick  rallied  me  again. 
Yes,  for  him,  even  if  he  were  in  the  condition  of  the  poor 
wretch  at  my  feet,  I  could  bear  anything.  I  would  still  embrace 
and  kiss  him,  and  all  disgust,  all  horror  would  be  drowned  in 
that  all-conquering  feeling — love.  "Frederick,  my  Frederick, 
I  am  coming."     I  repeated  half-aloud  this  fixed  thought  of  mins 


150  LAY   DOWN   YOUK  AKMt. 

which  had  seized  me  at  the  time  I  read  Bresser's  letter,  and 
had  never  quitted  me. 

A  fearful  notion  passed  through  my  brain — ^what  if  this  man 
should  be  Frederick  ?  I  collected  all  my  forces,  and  looked  at 
him  again.     No,  it  was  not  he. 

•         •••'••••t 

The  anxious  hour  of  waiting  did,  however,  come  to  an  end. 
They  had  carried  off  the  poor  gurgling  fellow.  "  Lay  him  on 
the  bench  there,"  I  heard  the  regimental  doctor  order;  " he  is 
not  to  be  brought  back  into  hospital.  He  is  already  three 
parts  dead."  And  yet  he  must  surely  have  still  understood  the 
words,  this  three-parts-dead  man ;  for  with  a  despairing  gesture 
he  raised  both  his  hands  to  heaven. 

Now  I  was  sitting  in  a  carriage  with  the  two  physicians  and 
four  sisters  of  mercy.  It  was  stiflingly  hot,  and  the  carriage 
was  filled  with  the  smell  of  the  hospital  and  sacristy — carbolic 
acid  and  incense.  I  was  unspeakably  ilL  ^  I  leaned  back  in 
my  corner,  and  shut  my  eyes. 

The  train  began  to  move.  That  is  just  the  time  when  every 
traveller  brings  before  his  mind's  eye  the  object  towards  which 
he  is  being  taken.  I  had  often  before  travelled  over  the  same 
ground ;  and  then  there  lay  before  me  a  visit  to  a  chateau  full 
of  guests,  or  a  pleasant  bathing-place — my  wedding-tour,  a 
blessed  memory,  was  made  on  this  same  route,  to  meet  with 
a  brilliant  and  loving  reception  in  the  metropolis  of  "  Prussia  **. 
What  a  different  sound  that  last  word  has  assumed  since  then  ! 
And  to-day  ?  What  is  our  object  to-day  ?  A  battlefield  and 
the  hospitals  round  it — the  abodes  of  death  and  suffering.  I 
shuddered 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  one  of  the  physicians,  "  I  think  you 
are  ill  yourself.     You  look  so  pale  and  so  suffering." 

I  looked  up ;  the  speaker  had  a  friendly,  youthful  appearance. 
I  guessed  that  this  was  his  first  service  on  being  recently  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  surgeon.  It  was  good  of  him  to  devote 
his  first  service  to  this  dangerous  and  laborious  duty  1  I  felt 
grateful  to  these  men  who  were  sitting  in  the  carriage  with  me 


L4T  DOWN   TOUK  ARMS.  25 1 

for  the  rcMef  which  they  were  in  the  act  of  bringing  to  the 

sufferers.  And  to  the  self-sacrificing  sisters — really  of  mercy — 
I  paid  heartfelt  admiration  and  thanks.  Yet  what  was  it  that 
each  of  these  good  men  had  to  bestow  ?  An  ounce  of  help  for 
1000  hundredweights  of  need.  These  courageous  nuns  must,  I 
thought,  bear  in  their  hearts  fortf//men  that  overmastering  love 
which  filled  mine  for  my  own  husband ;  as  I  had  felt  just  now 
that  if  the  fearfully  disfigured  and  repulsive  soldier  who  was 
gurgling  at  my  feet  had  been  my  husband,  all  my  repulsion 
would  have  vanished,  so  these  women  must  have  felt  towards 
every  brother-man,  and  surely  through  the  power  of  a  higher 
love — that  for  their  chosen  bridegroom,  Christ.  But  alas  ! 
here  also  these  noble  women  brought  an  ounce  only — one 
ounce  of  love  to  a  place  where  looo  hundredweights  of 
hatred  were  raging! 

"  No,  doctor,"  I  replied  to  the  sympathetic  question  of  the 
young  physician.     "  I  am  not  ill,  only  a  little  exhausted." 

The  staff-surgeon  now  joined  in  the  conversation. 

"Your  husband,  madam,  as   Baron   S told  me,  was 

wounded  at  Koniggratz,  and  you  are  travelling  thither  to  nurse 
him.    Do  you  know  in  which  of  the  villages  around  he  is  lying  ?  " 

No,  I  did  not  know. 

"My  destination   is   Koniginhof,"   I   replied.      "There  a 
physician  awaits  me  who  is  a  friend  of  mine — Dr.  Bresser." 

"  I  know  him.     He  was  with  me  when  we  made  a  three  days' 
examination  of  the  field  of  battle." 

"  Examined  the  field  of  battle  I  '*  I  repeated  with  a  shudder. 
'*  Let  us  hear." 

"  Yes,  yes,  doctor,  let  us  hear,"  begged  one  of  the  nuns. 
"  Our  service  may  bring  us  into  the  position  of  helping  at  an 
examination  of  the  kind." 
V  So  the  regimental  surgeon  began  his  narration.  Of  course  I 
cannot  give  the  exact  words  of  his  description ;  and,  again,  he 
did  not  speak  in  a  single  flow  of  words,  but  with  frequent  in- 
terruptions, and  almost  with  reluctance,  being  only  compelled 
to  speak  by  the  persistent  questions  with  which  the  curious  nuns 


25^  I<AY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS. 

and  I  assafled  him.  The  narration,  however,  though  sketchy^ 
formed  a  series  of  perfect  pictures  before  my  mind's  eye,  which 
impressed  themselves  so  on  my  memory  that  I  can  even  now 
make  them  pass  before  me.  In  other  circumstances  I  should 
not  have  so  clearly  comprehended  and  retained  the  doctor's 
sketches — one  always  forgets  so  easily  what  one  has  heard  or 
read — but  at  that  time  the  narratives  made  almost  the  impression 
of  an  experience.  I  was  in  a  state  of  high  nervous  tension  and 
excitement  My  fixed  thought  of  Frederick,  which  had  gained 
the  mastery  over  me,  made  me  represent  Frederick  to  myself 
as  a  person  concerned  in  each  scene  described ;  and  on  that 
account  they  remained  fixed  in  my  mind  as  painful  things  I  had 
myself  experienced.  Later  on  I  noted  down  the  events  related 
by  the  regimental  surgeon  in  the  red  book,  just  as  if  they  had 
taken  place  before  my  own  eyes. 

The  ambulance  was  placed  behind  a  hillock  which  protected 
it.  The  battle  was  raging  on  the  other  side.  The  ground 
quavered,  and  the  heated  air  quavered.  Clouds  of  smoke  were 
rising,  the  artillery  was  roaring.  Now  the  duty  was  to  send  oui 
patrols  to  repair  to  the  scene  of  battle,  pick  out  the  badly 
wounded,  and  bring  them  in.  Is  there  anything  more 
heroic  than  such  going  into  the  midst  of  the  hissing  rain  of 
bullets,  in  the  face  of  all  the  horrors  of  the  fight,  exposed  to  all 
the  perils  of  the  fight,  without  allowing  oneself  to  be  penetrated 
by  its  wild  excitement  ?  According  to  military  conceptions 
this  office  is  not  distinguished.  On  "  the  Sanitary  Corps  "  no 
smart,  active,  handy,  young  fellow  will  serve.  No  man  in  it 
turns  the  giils'  heads.  And  a  field  doctor,  even  if  one  is  no 
longer  called  by  that  name,  but  "  regimental  surgeon,"  can  he 
nevertheless  hold  a  comparison  with  any  cavalry  lieutenant  ? 

The  corporal  of  the  Sanitary  Corps  ordered  his  people 
towards  some  low  ground  against  which  a  battery  had  opened  its 
fire.  They  marched  through  the  dark  veil  of  the  powder  smoke 
and  the  dust  and  the  scattered  earth  to  a  point  where  a  cannon 
ball,  which  struck  the  ground  at  their  feet,  bounded  in  front 


LAY   DOWN  TOUR  ARMS.  353 

of  them.  They  had  only  gone  a  few  paces  when  they  began 
to  meet  with  wounded  men,  men  slightly  wounded,  who  were 
crawling  to  the  ambulance,  either  alone  or  in  pairs,  giving  each 
other  mutual  support.  One  sank  down ;  but  it  was  not  his 
wounds  which  had  sapped  his  strength,  it  was  exhaustion. 
"We  have  eaten  nothing  for  two  days,  made  a  forced  march 
of  twelve  hours,  got  into  the  bivouac,  and  then,  two  hours 
afterwards,  came  the  alarm  and  the  fight" 

The  patrol  went  forward.  These  men  would  find  their  way 
for  themselves,  and  manage  to  take  their  exhausted  comrade 
with  them.  Aid  must  be  reserved  for  others  still  more  in  need 
of  aid. 

On  a  heap  of  rocks,  forming  part  of  a  precipitous  declivity, 
lies  a  bleeding  mass.  There  are  a  dozen  soldiers  lying  there. 
The  sanitary  corporal  stops  and  bandages  one  or  two  of  them. 
But  these  wounded  men  are  not  carried  off;  those  must  first 
be  fetched  in  who  have  fallen  in  the  centre  of  the  field.  Then, 
perhaps,  on  their  return  march,  these  men  can  be  picked  up 
here. 

And  again  the  patrol  goes  on,  nearer  to  the  battle.  In 
ever  thicker  swarms  wounded  men  are  tottering  on,  painfully 
creeping  forward,  singly  or  together.  These  are  such  as  can 
still  walk.  The  contents  of  the  field  flasks  is  distributed  amongst 
these,  a  bandage  is  applied  to  such  wounds  as  are  bleeding, 
and  the  way  to  the  ambulance  pointed  out  to  them.  Then 
forward  again.  Over  the  dead — over  hillocks  of  corpses. 
Many  of  these  dead  show  traces  of  horrible  agonies.  Eyes 
staring  unnaturally,  hands  grasping  the  ground,  the  hair  of  the 
beard  staring  out,  teeth  pressed  together,  lips  closed  spasmo- 
dically, legs  stifTIy  outstretched.     So  they  lie. 

Now  through  a  hollow  way.  Here  they  are  lying  in  heaps, 
dead  and  wounded  together.  The  latter  greet  the  sanitary 
patrol  as  angels  of  rescue,  and  beg  and  shriek  for  help.  With 
broken  voices,  weeping  and  lamenting,  they  shout  for  rescue, 
for  a  gulp  of  water.  But  alas  I  the  provisions  are  almost 
exhausted,  and  what  can  these  f=iw  men  do  ?     Each  ought  to 


254  I^Y   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

have  a  hundred  arms  to  be  able  to  rescue  them  all.  Yet  each 
does  what  he  can.  Then  sounds  the  prolonged  tone  of  the 
sanitary  call.  The  men  stop  and  break  off  from  their  work  of 
aid.  "  Do  not  desert  us !  Do  not  desert  us ! "  the  poor  injured 
men  cry ;  but  the  signal  horn  calls  again  and  again,  and  this, 
plainly  distinguishable  from  all  other  noises,  is  evidently  going 
further  afield.  Then  also  an  adjutant  comes  in  hot  haste. 
"  Men  of  the  Sanitary  Corps  ?  **  "  At  your  command,"  replies 
the  corporal.     "  Follow  me." 

Evidently  a  general  wounded.  It  is  necessary  to  obey  and 
leave  the  rest  "  Patience,  comrades,  and  keep  a  good  heart ; 
we  will  return.*'  Those  who  hear  and  those  who  say  it  know 
that  it  is  not  true. 

And  again  they  go  further :  following  the  adjutant,  at  the 
double  quick,  who  spurs  on  in  front  and  points  the  way. 
There  is  no  halting  on  the  way,  although  on  the  right  hand  and 
on  the  left  resound  shrieks  of  woe  and  cries  for  help ;  and 
although  also  many  bullets  fall  among  those  who  are  thus 
hurrying  on,  and  stretch  one  and  another  on  the  ground — only 
onwards  and  over  everything.  Over  men  writhing  with  the  pain 
of  their  wounds,  men  trodden  down  by  horses  tearing  over 
them,  or  crushed  by  guns  passing  over  their  limbs,  and  who, 
seeing  the  rescue  corps,  mutilated  as  they  are,  rear  themselves 
up  for  the  last  time.     Over  them,  over  them  I 

This  sort  of  thing  goes  on  for  pages  of  the  red  book.  The 
relation  that  the  regimental  surgeon  gave  of  the  march  of  a 
sanitary  patrol  over  the  battlefield  contains  many  similar,  and 
even  more  painful  things,  such  as  the  description  of  moments 
when  bullets  and  shells  fall  in  the  midst  of  the  dressers  and 
tear  up  new  wounds  ;  or  when  the  course  of  the  battle  brings 
the  fight  on  to  the  dressing  station  itself,  right  up  on  to  the 
ambulance,  and  sucks  in  the  whole  personnel  of  the  sanitary 
corps,  with  the  physicians  and  with  the  patients  into  the 
whirl  of  the  fighting  or  fleeing  or  pursuing  troops ;  or  when 
frightened  riderless  horses  all  abroad  come  across  the  way,  and 


LAY   DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  2^$ 

overturn  the  stretcher  on  which  a  tcverely  wounded  man  is 
lying,  who  is  now  dashed  to  the  earth  all  shattered.  Or  this, 
the  most  gruesome  picture  of  all — a  farmyard,  into  which  a 
hundred  wounded  men  had  been  carried,  bandaged,  and  made 
comfortable — the  poor  wretches,  glad  and  thankful  that  their 
rescue  had  been  effected.  Then  a  shell  came  and  set  the  whole 
on  fire.  A  minute  afterwards  the  hospital  was  in  flames.  The 
shiieks,  or  rather  the  howls,  which  resounded  from  this  abode 
of  despair,  and  which  in  its  wild  agony  drowned  all  the  other 
noises,  will  remain  for  ever  in  the  memory  of  any  one  who  heard 
it.  Ah  me  !  it  remains  for  ever  in  my  memory  too,  though  I 
did  not  hear  it ;  for,  as  the  regimental  surgeon  was  telling  it,  I 
fancied  again  that  Frederick  was  there — that  I  heard  his  shriek 
out  of  the  burning  place  of  tortiu-e. 

"  You  are  getting  ill,  dear  madam,"  said  the  narrator,  break- 
ing off,     "  I  must  have  tried  your  nerves  too  much.** 

But  I  had  not  yet  heard  enough.  I  assured  him  that  my 
momentary  weakness  was  the  consequence  merely  of  the  heat 
and  of  a  bad  night,  and  I  was  not  too  tired  to  ask  for  the  rest. 
I  kept  feeling  still  that  I  had  not  yet  heard  enough ;  that  of  the 
infernal  circles  that  were  being  described,  the  description  had 
not  yet  been  given  of  the  lowest  and  most  hellish ;  and  when 
once  the  thirst  for  the  horrible  has  been  awakened  it  is  impos- 
sible to  stop  till  it  has  been  slaked  by  the  most  horrible  of  all. 
And  I  was  right,  for  there  is  something  more  hideous  than  a 
battlefield  during  the  fight,  w«.,  one  afterwards. 

No  more  thunder  of  artillery,  no  more  blare  of  trumpets,  no 
more  beat  of  drum  ;  only  the  low  moans  of  pain  and  the  rattle 
of  death.  In  the  trampled  ground  some  redly-glimmering  pools, 
lakes  of  blood  ;  all  the  crops  destroyed,  only  here  and  there  a 
piece  of  land  left  untouched,  and  still  covered  with  stubble ; 
the  smiling  villages  of  yesterday  turned  into  ruins  and  rubbish. 
The  trees  burned  and  hacked  in  the  forests,  the  hedges  torn 
with  grape-shot.  And  on  this  battle-ground  thousands  and 
thousands  of  men  dead  and  dying — dying  without  aid.  No 
blossoms  of  flowers  are  to  be  seen  on  wayside  or  meadow; 


2$6  UUr  DOWN  TOUE  ARMt. 

but  sabres,  bayonets,  knapsacks,  cloaks,  overturaed  ammani 
tion  waggons,  powder  waggons  blown  into  the  air,  cannon  with 
broken  carriages.  Near  the  cannon,  whose  muzzles  are  black 
with  smoke,  the  ground  is  bloodiest  There  the  greatest 
number  and  the  most  mangled  of  dead  and  half-dead  men  are 
lying,  literally  torn  to  pieces  with  shot ;  and  the  dead  horses, 
and  the  half-dead  which  raise  themselves  on  their  feet — such 
as  they  have  left  them — ^to  sink  again ;  then  raise  themselves 
up  once  more  and  fall  down  again,  till  they  only  raise  their 
head  to  shriek  out  their  pain-laden  death-cry.  There  is  a 
hollow  way  quite  filled  with  corpses  trodden  into  the  mire. 
The  poor  creatures  had  taken  refuge  there  no  doubt  to  get 
cover,  but  a  battery  has  driven  over  them,  and  they  have  been 
crushed  by  the  horses*  hoofs  and  the  wheels.  Many  of  them 
are  still  alive — a  pulpy,  bleeding  mass,  but  "  still  alive  ". 

And  yet  there  is  still  something  more  hellish  even  than  all  this, 
and  that  is  the  appearance  of  the  most  vile  scum  of  humanity,  as 
it  shows  itself  in  war — i.e.,  the  appearance  and  the  activity  of 
"  the  hyenas  of  the  battlefield  *'.  "  Then  slink  on  the  monsters 
who  grope  after  the  spoils  of  the  dead,  and  bend  over  the 
corpses  and  over  the  living,  mercilessly  tearing  off  their  clothes 
from  their  bodies.  The  boots  are  dragged  off  the  bleeding 
limbs,  the  rings  off  the  wounded  hands,  or  to  get  the  ring  the 
finger  is  simply  chopped  off,  and  if  a  man  tries  to  defend 
himself  from  such  a  sacrifice,  he  is  murdered  by  these  hyenas ; 
or,  in  order  to  make  him  unrecognisable,  they  dig  his  eyes 
out" 

I  shrieked  out  loud  at  the  doctor's  last  words.  I  again 
saw  the  whole  scene  before  me,  and  the  eyes  into  which  the 
hyena  was  plunging  his  knife  were  Frederick's  soft,  blue, 
beloved  eyes. 

**Pray,  forgive  me,  dear  lady,  but  it  was  by  your  own 
wish *' 

^  Oh  yes ;  I  desire  to  hear  it  all.  What  you  are  now 
describing  was  the  night  which  follows  the  battle ;  and  these 
scenes  are  enacted  by  the  starlight  ?  '* 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  257 

"And  by  torchlight.  The  patrols  which  the  conquerors 
send  out  to  survey  the  field  of  battle  carry  torches  and  lanterns, 
and  red  lanterns  are  hoisted  on  signal  poles  to  point  out  the 
places  where  flying  hospitals  are  to  be  established." 

**  And  next  morning,  how  does  the  field  look  ?  * 

"Almost  more  fearful  still.  The  contrast  between  the  bright, 
smiling  daylight  and  the  dreadful  work  of  man  on  which  it 
shines  has  a  doubly-painful  effect  At  night  the  entire  picture 
of  horror  is  something  ghostly  and  fantastic.  By  daylight  it  is 
simply  hopeless.  Now  you  see  for  the  first  time  the  mass  of 
corpses  lying  around  on  the  lanes,  between  the  fields,  in  the 
ditches,  behind  the  ruins  of  walls.  Everywhere  dead  bodies — 
everywhere.  Plundered,  some  of  them  naked ;  and  just  the 
same  with  the  wounded.  These  who,  in  spite  of  the  nightly 
labour  of  the  Sanitary  Corps,  are  still  always  lying  around  in 
numbers,  look  pale  and  collapsed,  green  or  yellow,  with  fixed 
and  stupefied  gaze,  or  writhing  in  agonies  of  pain,  they  beg  any 
one  who  comes  near  to  put  them  to  death.  Swarms  of  carrion 
crows  settle  on  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  with  loud  croaks 
announce  the  bill  of  fare  of  the  tempting  banquet.  Hungry 
dogs,  from  the  villages  around,  come  running  by  and  lick  the 
blood  from  their  wounds.  There  are  a  few  hyenas  to  be  seen 
who  are  still  carrying  on  their  work  hastily  further  afield.  And 
now  comes  the  great  interment." 

"  Who  does  that— the  Sanitary  Corps  ?  " 

"  How  could  they  suffice  for  such  a  mass  of  work  ?  They 
have  fully  enough  to  do  with  the  wounded." 

**  Then  troops  detailed  for  the  work  ?" 

"No.  A  crowd  of  men  impressed,  or  even  offering  themselves 
voluntarily — loiterers,  baggage  people,  who  are  supporting 
themselves  by  the  market  stalls,  baggage  waggons  and  so  forth, 
and  who  now  have  been  hunted  away  by  the  force  of  the  mili- 
tary operations,  together  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  cottages 
and  huts — to  dig  trenches — good  large  ones,  of  course — wide 
trenches,  for  they  are  not  made  deep — there  is  no  time  for  that. 
Into  these  the  dead  bodies  are  th'X)wn,  heads   up  or  heads 

17 


258  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARM  ft. 

down  just  as  they  come  to  hand.  Or  it  is  done  in  this  way  ; 
A  heap  is  made  of  the  corpses,  and  a  foot  or  two  of  earth  is 
heaped  up  over  them,  and  then  it  has  the  appearance  of  a 
tumulus.  In  a  few  days  rain  comes  on  and  washes  the 
covering  off  the  festering  dead  bodies !  but  what  does  that 
matter  ?  The  nimble,  jolly  gravediggers  do  not  look  so  far 
forward.  For  jolly,  merry  workmen  they  are,  that  one  must 
allow.  Songs  are  piped  out  there,  and  all  kinds  of  dubious 
jokes  made — ^nay,  sometimes  a  dance  of  hyenas  is  danced 
round  the  open  trench.  Whether  in  several  of  the  bodies  that 
are  shovelled  into  it  or  are  covered  with  the  earth  life  is  still 
stirring,  they  give  themselves  no  trouble  to  think.  The  thing 
is  inevitable,  for  the  stiff  cramp  often  comes  on  after  wounds. 
Many  who  have  been  saved  by  accident  have  told  of  the  danger 
of  being  buried  alive  which  they  have  escaped.  But  how  many 
are  there  of  those  who  are  not  able  to  tell  anything  !  If  a  man 
has  once  got  a  foot  or  two  of  earth  over  his  mouth  he  may 
well  hold  his  tongue." 

"  Oh  my  Frederick,  my  Frederick  ! "  I  groaned  in  my 
heart. 

"  That  is  the  picture  of  the  next  morning,"  said  the  surgeon, 
in  conclusion.  "Shall  I  go  on  further  and  tell  you  what 
happens  next  evening  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  that,  doctor,"  I  broke  in.  "  One  of  the  two 
capitals  of  the  powers  engaged  has  received  the  telegraphic 
news  of  the  glorious  victory.  And  there  in  the  morning,  while 
the  hyena  dance  is  going  on  round  the  trench,  they  are  singing 
in  the  churches :  *  Now  thank  we  all  the  Lord,'  and  in  the 
evening  there  the  mother  or  the  wife  of  one  of  the  men  buried 
alive  is  putting  a  lighted  candle  or  two  in  the  window-sill 
because  the  city  is  illuminated." 

*'  Yes,  madam,  that  is  the  comedy  which  is  being  played  at 
home.  Meanwhile,  on  the  field  of  battle,  the  tragedy  is  still 
far  from  played  out  by  the  second  sunset.  Besides  those  who 
are  carried  to  the  hospital  or  the  trench,  there  still  remain  the 
'missing'.      Hidden   behind  some  thick   brushWQPCJ,  in  the 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARlft.  2Sg 

fields  of  Standing  corn,  or  amongst  the  ruins  of  buildings,  they 
have  escaped  the  sight  of  the  bearers  or  the  buriers,  and  for 
them  begins  now  the  martyrdom  of  an  agony  which  lasts  many 
days  and  nights — in  the  burning  heat  of  midday — in  the  dark 
shadows  of  midnight,  crouched  on  stones  and  thistles,  in  the 
stench  of  the  corpses  around  and  of  their  own  putrefying 
wounds — a  prey,  while  still  quivering,  for  the  feasting  vultures." 

What  a  journey  that  was  f     The  regimental  surgeon  had 

long  ceased  to  speak,  but  the  scenes  he  had  described  went  on 

continually  presenting  themselves  before  my  mind's  eye.    To 

escape  from  this  train  of  thoughts  which  persecuted  me,  I 

began  to  look  out  of  the  carriage  window  and  try  to  find 

distraction  in  the  prospect  of  the  country.      But  here  also 

pictures  of  the    horrors  of  war  presented  themselves  to  my 

vision.     It  is  true  that  no  violent  devastation  had  taken  place 

in  this  neighbourhood,  there  were  no  ruined  villages  smoking 

there,  "  the  enemy  "  had  effected  no  lodgment  there,  but  what 

was  raging  there  was  perhaps  still  worse,  viz.,  the  /ear  of  the 

enemy.      "  The    Prussians   are   coming  I    the    Prussians   are 

coming !  **  was  the  signal  of  alarm  through  the  whole  region, 

and  though  in  travelling  past  one  did  not  hear  the  words,  yet 

even  from  the  carriage  window  their  effect  was  plainly  to  be 

seen.      Everywhere  on  all  the  roads  and  lanes  were  people 

flying,  leaving  their  homes  with  bag  and  baggage.      Whole 

trains  of  waggons  were  moving  inland,  filled  with  bedding, 

household  furniture  and  provisions,  all  evidently  packed  up 

in  the  greatest  haste.     On  the  same  car  would  be  some  little 

pigs,  the  youngest  child,  and  one  or  two  sacks  of  potatoes, 

beside  it  on  foot  man  and  wife  and  the  elder  children ;  that  is 

how  I  saw  a  family  making  their  escape  as  they  moved  down  a 

road  near  me.     Where  were  the  poor  creatures  going  ?    They 

themselves  very  Ukely  did  not  know,  it  was  only  away,  away 

from  "  the  Prussians  ".    So  men  flee  from  the  roaring  fire,  or 

the  rising  flood. 

Frequently  a  train  passed  us  on  the  other  line — wounde^ 


260  LAY  DOWN  TOUE  AUCt. 

always  and  again  wounded — always  once  more  the  ashy 
faces,  the  bandaged  heads,  the  arms  in  slings.  At  the  stations 
especially  one  might  feed  on  this  sight  in  all  its  variations  to 
satiety.  All  the  large  or  small  platforms,  on  which  one  usually 
sees  the  travelling  population  waiting  or  cheerfully  standing  or 
walking  about,  were  now  filled  with  prostrate  or  cowering 
figures.  They  were  the  invalid  soldiers  who  had  been  brought 
from  the  field-  or  private-hospitals  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
were  waiting  for  the  next  train  which  might  serve  for  the  trans- 
port of  the  wounded.  There  they  might  have  to  lie  for  hours ; 
and  who  knows  how  many  removals  they  have  already  passed 
through  I  From  the  battlefield  to  the  first-aid  station, 
from  thence  to  the  ambulance,  from  thence  to  a  movable 
hospital,  then  to  the  village,  and  now  to  the  railway,  whence 
they  have  still  the  journey  to  Vienna  before  them ;  then  from 
the  station  to  the  hospital,  and  from  thence,  after  all  these 
long  tortures,  perhaps  back  to  their  regiment — perhaps  to  the 
churchyard.  I  was  so  sorry — so  sorry — so  terribly  sorry  for 
these  poor  fellows  I  I  should  have  liked  to  kneel  down  before 
each  of  them  and  whisper  a  few  words  of  compassion  to  him. 
But  the  doctor  would  not  allow  me.  When  we  got  out  at  a 
station  he  gave  me  his  arm  and  took  me  into  the  stationmaster's 
office.  There  he  brought  me  some  wine,  or  some  other 
refreshment. 

The  nurses  carried  on  their  work  of  mercy  here  also.  They 
gave  the  wounded  men  drink  and  food,  such  as  they  could 
hunt  up,  but  often  there  was  nothing  to  be  had.  The  provi- 
sions in  the  refreshment  rooms  were  generally  exhausted. 
This  movement  at  the  stations,  especially  at  the  large  ones, 
had  a  bewildering  effect  on  me.  It  seemed  to  me  like  an  evil 
dream.  All  this  running  hither  and  thither,  this  confused 
pell-mell— troops  marching  out,  people  flying  away,  sick-bearers, 
heaps  of  bleeding  and  complaining  soldiers,  sobbing  women 
wringing  their  hands,  shouts,  harsh  words  of  command — 
crowds  on  all  hands,  no  free  passage  anywhere — baggage 
being  sent  in,  war  material,  cannons — on  another  side  horses 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  26l 

And  bellowing  cattle,  and  amongst  them  the  continuous  sound 
of  the  telegraph — trains  rushing  through  filled,  or  crowded  rather, 
with  the  reserves  coming  up  from  Vienna.  These  soldiers  were 
brought  along  in  third  and  fourth  class  carriages — nay,  also  in 
baggage  and  cattle  trucks — ^just  in  the  same  way  as  cattle  to  be 
slaughtered,  and  regarding  it  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  could  not 
repress  the  thought :  **  What  else  were  they  in  reality  ?  Were 
they  not  like  the  cattle  marked  out  for  slaughter — wfere  they 
not,  like  them,  sent  to  the  great  political  market,  where  business 
is  done  in  food  for  powder — what  the  French  call  chair-cL- 
canon  f"  A  mad  roar — was  it  a  war  song  ? — pealed  out  and 
drowned  the  rattling  sound  of  the  wheels — one  minute,  and  the 
train  was  gone.  With  the  speed  of  the  wind  it  bore  a  portion 
of  its  freight  to  certain  death.  Yes,  certain  death.  Even  if  no 
individual  can  say  of  himself  that  he  is  sure  to  fall,  yet  a  certain 
percentage  of  the  whole  must  and  will  fall.  An  army  marching 
to  the  field,  as  they  sweep  along  the  high  road  on  foot  or  on 
horseback,  may  have  a  touch  of  antique  poetry  about  it ;  but 
for  the  railroad  of  our  modern  day,  the  symbol  of  culture 
binding  nations  together,  to  serve  as  the  means  for  promoting 
barbarism  let  loose — that  is  a  thing  altogether  too  inconsistent 
and  horrible.  And  what  a  false  ring  also  has  the  telegraph  signal 
used  in  this  service — that  splendid  sign  of  the  triumph  of  the 
human  intellect,  which  has  enabled  us  to  propagate  thought 
with  lightning  speed  from  one  land  to  another.  All  these 
inventions  of  the  new  era  which  are  designed  to  promote  the 
intercourse  of  nations,  to  lighten,  beautify,  and  enrich  life,  are 
now  misapplied  by  that  old-world  principle  which  aims  at 
dividing  the  peoples  and  annihilating  life.  Our  boast  before 
savages  is  :  "  Look  at  our  railroads,  look  at  our  tel^aphs ;  we 
are  civilised  nations";  and  then  we  use  these  things  to  / 
increase  a  hundredfold  our  own  savagery.  V 

My  being  forced  to  torture  myself  with  such  thoughts  as  these, 
and  these  only,  as  I  waited  at  the  station  or  pursued  my  way 
in  the  train,  made  my  grief  still  more  deep  and  bitter.  I 
almost  envied  those  who  merely  wrung  their  hands  and  wept  in 


26a  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

simple  pain,  who  did  not  rise  up  in  wrath  against  the  whole 
hideous  comedy,  who  accused  no  one — not  even  that  "  Lord 
of  armies  "  of  whom  yet  they  believed  that  He  was  so,  and  that 
it  was  He  who  was  keeping  suspended  over  their  heads  the 
misery  that  had  come  to  them. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  I  got  to  Koniginhof.  My 
travelling  companions  had  been  obliged  to  get  out  at  an 
earlier  station.  I  was  alone,  in  fear  and  anxiety.  How  if  Dr. 
Bresser  were  prevented  from  coming?  What  step  could  I 
then  take  in  this  place  ?  Besides  I  was,  so  to  speak,  broken 
on  the  wheel  by  the  journey,  quite  unnerved  by  all  the  experi- 
ences of  grief  and  terror  that  I  had  passed  through.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  my  longing  for  Frederick  I  should  have  wished  now 
for  nothing  but  death.  To  be  able  to  lie  down,  go  to  sleep, 
and  never  wake  again  in  a  world  where  things  go  on  so  horribly 
and  so  madly !  But  preserve  me  from  one  thing  at  least,  to 
live  on  and  know  that  Frederick  is  among  the  "  missing  "  I 

The  train  stopped.  Tired  and  trembling,  I  alighted  and 
took  out  my  hand-baggage.  I  had  taken  with  me  a  hand- 
basket,  with  some  linen  for  myself  and  charpie  and  bandages 
for  the  wounded,  and  also  my  travelling  dressing-case.  This  I 
had  taken  quite  mechanically,  in  the  belief  in  which  I  was 
brought  up  that  one  could  not  exist  without  the  silver  cases 
and  baskets,  the  soaps  and  essences,  the  brushes  and  combs. 
Cleanliness,  that  virtue  of  the  body,  corresponding  to  honour 
in  the  soul,  that  second  nature  of  educated  humanity,  what  a 
lesson  had  I  now  to  learn,  that  there  can  be  no  thought  of  it 
at  such  times  as  these  I  That,  however,  is  only  consistent — war 
is  the  negation  of  education,  and  therefore  all  the  triumphs  of 
education  must  be  annihilated  by  it;  it  is  a  step  backwards 
into  barbarism  and  must  therefore  have  everything  that  is 
barbarous  in  its  train,  and  amongst  others  that  thing  which  to 
the  cultured  man  is  so  utterly  abominable — dirt 

The  chest  with  materials  for  the  hospitals,  which  I  had 
looked  out  for  Dr.  Bresser  in  Vienna,  had  been  given  over  with 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMt.  163 

the  other  chests  to  the  care  of  the  Aid  Committee,  and  who 
could  tell  when  and  where  they  would  be  delivered  ?  I  had 
nothing  with  me  except  my  two  pieces  of  hand-baggage,  and  a 
bag  of  money  round  my  neck  containing  a  few  hundred  florin 
notes.  With  a  tottering  step  I  crossed  the  rails  to  the  platform. 
There,  in  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  the  same  confusion 
prevailed  as  at  the  other  stations,  and  the  same  picture  was 
always  repeated.  Wounded  men — wounded  men.  No,  not 
the  same  picture,  one  still  worse.  Kbniginhof  was  a  place 
which  was  over-full  of  these  unfortunates,  there  was  not  an 
unoccupied  room  in  the  whole  village,  and  now  they  had 
brought  the  sick  in  crowds  to  the  railway  station,  where,  hastily 
bandaged  up,  they  were  lying  about  everywhere  —  on  the 
ground — on  the  stones. 

It  was  a  dark,  moonless  night,  the  scene  was  illuminated 
only  by  three  or  four  lamps  on  the  pillars.  Exhausted  and 
thirsting  for  sleep,  almost  for  the  sleep  of  death,  I  sank  on  the 
unoccupied  corner  of  a  bench  and  put  my  luggage  on  the 
ground  in  front  of  me. 

At  first  I  had  not  the  courage  to  look  about  me  and  see 
whether  amongst  the  number  of  men  who  were  busy  passing 
to  and  fro  here  one  might  be  Dr.  Bresser.  I  was  almost 
persuaded  that  I  should  not  meet  him.  It  was  at  least  ten 
chances  to  one  that  he  would  be  prevented  from  coming,  or 
that  he  would  get  here  at  another  hour  than  the  one  fixed,  for 
there  was  no  longer  any  regularity  in  the  service,  my  train  had 
certainly  arrived  much  later  than  was  fixed  by  the  railway 
regulations.  Regulations — another  civilised  conception,  and  so 
it  was  now  set  aside  along  with  the  rest 

My  undertaking  seemed  to  me  now  a  perfect  lunacy.  This 
fancied  call  from  Frederick — could  I  then  believe  in  mystical 
things  of  that  sort  ?  It  certainly  had  no  foundation  whatever. 
Who  knows  ?  Frederick  was  perhaps  on  his  way  home,  perhaps 
he  was  dead ;  why  was  I  seeking  for  him  here  ?  Another  voice 
began  now  to  call  upon  me,  other  arms  were  stretched  out  to 
meet  me.     Rudolf  my  son,  how  he  would  hare  been  asking 


264  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMl. 

for  "  mamma  "  and  not  been  able  to  get  to  sleep  without  his 
mother's  kiss  when  he  bade  "  good-night  ".  Whither  should  I 
turn  here  if  I  did  not  find  Bresser  ?  And  the  hope  of  finding 
him  had  of  a  sudden  become  as  small  as  the  hope  of  the  lucky 
number  among  100,000  lots.  Luckily  I  had  my  bag  of  money 
— the  possession  of  bank  notes  affords  always  a  means  of 
getting  out  of  difficulties.  Mechanically  I  felt  the  place  where 
the  bag  should  have  been  hanging.  Good  God  1  the  strap  by 
which  it  had  been  fastened  had  been  torn  off,  and  the  bag  was 
gone — was  lost  I  What  a  blow  !  And  yet  I  had  not  recourse 
to  any  complaint  against  my  destiny.  I  could  not  lament: 
"  How  hard  fortune  is  hitting  me  1 "  for,  at  a  time  when  mis- 
fortune was  falling  in  floods  on  all  sides,  to  complain  about  a 
little  misfortune  of  one*s  own  would  have  made  one  blush  for 
one's  own  selfishness.  And  besides,  for  me  there  was  only  one 
possibility  which  could  alarm  me — Frederick's  death ;  all  the 
rest  was  nothing. 

I  began  to  look  at  all  the  people  present.  No  Dr.  Bresser. 
What  to  do  now  ?  To  whom  to  address  myself?  I  stopped  one 
of  the  men  passing 

"  Where  can  I  find  the  stationmaster  ?  ** 

"  You  mean  the  director  of  the  Sick  Dep6t — Staff-surgeon 
S .     He  is  standing  there." 

He  was  not  the  person  I  meant,  but  perhaps  he  would 
be  able  to  give  me  information  about  Dr.  Bresser.  I 
approached  the  place  he  pointed  out  The  staff-surgeon  was 
speaking  to  a  gentleman  standing  near  him. 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  I  heard  him  say.  "  Here  and  at  Turnau 
depots  have  been  founded  for  all  the  hospitals  of  the  theatre  of 
war.  Gifts  are  flowing  in  in  masses — linen,  food,  bandages  as 
much  as  you  can  wish,  but  what  is  to  be  done  with  them? 
How  are  they  to  be  unpacked  ?  how  sorted  ?  how  sent  out  ? 
We  have  no  hands.  We  could  occupy  a  hundred  active 
officers." 

I  was  just  going  to  speak  to  the  staff-surgeon  when  I  saw  a 
man  hurrying  towards  him  in  whom — O  joy  I — I  recognised 


L4Y  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  265 

Dr.  Bresser.     In  my  excitement  I  fell  on  the  neck  of  my  old 
family  friend. 

"  You  !  you  I  Baroness  Tilling  1  Whatever  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"  I  am  come  to  help— to  nurse.  Is  not  Frederick  in  one  of 
your  hospitals  ?  " 

**  I  have  seen  nothing  of  him." 

Was  this  a  disappointment  or  a  relief?  I  do  not  know. 
He  was  not  there,  and  therefore  either  dead  or  unhurt  .  .  . 
besides,  Bresser  could  not  possibly  know  all  the  wounded  in 
the  neighbourhood.  I  must  search  through  all  the  hospitals 
myself. 

"  And  Frau  Simon  ?  '*  I  asked  next. 

"  She  has  been  here  now  some  hours.  A  splendid  woman  ! 
quick  in  decision,  prudent.  Just  now  she  is  busied  in  getting 
the  wounded  who  are  lying  here  carried  into  empty  railway 
trucks.  She  has  discovered  that  in  a  village  near,  at  Horone- 
wos,  the  need  is  the  greatest.  She  is  going  there,  and  I  am 
to  accompany  her." 

"And  I  also,  Dr.  Bresser,  let  me  go  with  you." 

"  Baroness  Martha,  where  are  you  thinking  of  going  ?  You, 
so  delicate  and  unaccustomed  to  such  hard,  bitterly  hard  work 
as  this  ?  ** 

"  What  else  have  I  got  to  do  here  ? "  I  said,  interrupting 
him.  "  If  you  are  my  friend,  doctor,  help  me  to  carry  out 
my  purpose.  I  will  really  do  anything,  perform  any  service. 
Introduce  me  to  Frau  Simon  as  a  volunteer  nurse ;  but  take 
me  with  you — for  mercy's  sake  take  me  with  you." 

"  Very  well ;  your  will  shall  be  done.  The  brave  lady  is 
there.     Come." 

When  Dr.  Bresser  brought  me  to  Frau  Simon  and  introduced 
me  to  her  as  a  sick  nurse  she  nodded,  but  turned  away  at  once 
to  give  some  order.  I  was  not  able  to  see  her  features  in  the 
dubious  light. 

Five  minutes  later  we  were  on  our  journey  to  Horonewos. 


266  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

A  country  waggon  which  had  just  brought  some  wounded  from 
that  place  served  as  our  conveyance.  We  sat  upon  the  straw 
which  was  perhaps  still  bloody  from  its  former  freight.  The 
soldier  who  sat  by  the  driver  held  a  lantern  which  threw  a 
flickering  light  on  our  road.  "  An  evil  dream — an  evil  dream." 
Such  was  more  and  more  the  impression  of  what  I  was  going 
through.  The  only  thing  which  brought  to  my  mind  the  reality 
of  my  situation,  and  which  at  the  same  time  gave  me  repose, 
was  Dr.  Bresser's  company.  I  had  placed  my  hand  in  his,  and 
his  other  arm  supported  me. 

"  Lean  on  me,  Baroness  Martha,  my  poor  child,"  he  said 
softly. 

I  did  lean  on  him  as  well  as  I  could,  but  what  a  position  of 
torture  it  was  I  When  one  has  been  accustomed  during  the 
whole  of  one's  life  to  repose  upon  cushioned  seats,  carriages  on 
well-hung  springs,  and  soft  beds,  how  heavy  it  falls  on  one  all 
at  once,  after  an  exhausting  day's  travel,  to  be  sitting  on  a 
jolting  country  cart,  the  hard  planks  of  which  are  cushioned 
only  by  a  layer  of  bloody  straw.  And  yet  I  was  uninjured. 
What  then  must  those  have  felt  who  were  hurried  over  stock 
and  stone  in  such  a  conveyance  as  that  with  shattered  limbs 
and  their  bones  sticking  out  of  their  skin  ? 

My  eyelids  closed  with  a  leaden  weight.  A  painful  feeling 
of  sleepiness  tortured  me.  Sleep  was  indeed  impossible  from 
the  discomfort  of  my  position — every  limb  was  aching — and 
from  the  excitement  of  my  nerves,  but  the  somnolence  which  I 
could  not  shake  off  had  the  more  terrible  effect  on  me. 
Thoughts  and  images,  as  confused  as  the  visions  of  fever, 
whirled  through  my  brain.  All  the  scenes  of  horror  which  the 
regimental  surgeon  had  described  repeated  themselves  before 
my  spirit,  partly  in  the  very  words  of  the  narrator,  partly  as 
delusions  of  sight  and  hearing,  called  up  by  those  words.  I 
kept  seeing  the  gravediggers  shovelling  in  the  dead,  saw  the 
hyenas  sneaking  up,  heard  the  shrieks  of  those  who  were  being 
sacrificed  in  the  burning  lazaretto,  and  between  whiles  words 
came  in  as  if  they  were  pronounced  aloud  in  the  accents  of  the 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  267 

regimental  surgeon,  such  as  carrion  crows,  market  folks,  sanitary 
patrols.  That,  however,  did  not  prevent  me  from  hearing  the 
conversation  that  was  being  carried  on  half  aloud  by  my 
companions  in  the  cart. 

"  A  part  of  the  routed  army  fled  to  Koniggratz,"  Dr.  Bresser 
said ;  "  but  the  fortress  was  closed  and  the  fugitives  were  fired 
on  from  the  walls — especially  the  Saxons,  who  in  the  twilight 
were  mistaken  for  Prussians.  Hundreds  plunged  into  the 
ditches  of  the  fort  and  were  drowned.  The  flight  was  checked 
by  the  Elbe,  and  the  disorder  reached  its  height.  The  bridges 
were  so  overcrowded  by  horses  and  cannon  that  the  infantry 
could  find  no  room.  Thousands  flung  themselves  into  the 
Elbe — even  the  wounded." 

"  It  must  be  a  horrible  state  of  things  at  Horonevvos,"  said 
Frau  Simon.  "  All  abandoned  by  its  inhabitants — village  and 
castle.  The  whole  of  the  inner  rooms  destroyed  and  yet  filled 
with  helpless  wounded  men.  What  joy  will  the  refreshments 
we  are  bringing  give  the  wretched  m^n  I  But  it  will  not  be 
enough — not  enough  1  ** 

"And  our  medical  aid  is  also  not  enough,"  added  Dr. 
Bresser.  "  There  should  be  a  hundred  of  us,  in  order  to  do 
what  is  required;  we  are  in  want  of  instruments  and  medicines; 
and  would  even  these  help  us  ?  The  overcrowding  of  these 
places  is  such  as  to  threaten  the  outbreak  of  dangerous 
epidemics.  The  first  care  is  always  this,  to  send  away  as  many 
wounded  as  possible,  but  their  condition  is  usually  such  that 
no  conscientious  man  would  take  the  responsibility  of  their 
transport — to  send  them  oflf  means  to  kill  them,  to  leave  them 
there  means  to  introduce  hospital  gangrene — a  sad  alternative ! 
The  horrors  and  miseries  I  have  seen  in  these  days  since  the 
battle  of  Koniggratz  exceed  all  conceptidL  You  must  prepare 
yourself  for  the  worst,  Frau  Simon." 

**  I  have  the  experience  of  many  years  and  courage.  The 
greater  the  misery,  the  higher  rises  my  determination." 

**  I  know,  your  feme  has  preceded  you.  I,  on  the  contrary, 
when  I  see  io  much  misery  feel  all  my  courage  sink,  and  h 


268  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

Strikes  me  to  the  heart.  To  hear  hundreds — nay,  thousands — of 
men  in  want  of  help,  praying  for  help,  and  not  to  be  able  to  help 
— it  is  hideous  !  In  all  these  ambulances  which  have  been  set 
up  in  the  most  hasty  way  around  the  field  of  battle  we  have 
been  in  want  of  restoratives — above  all  things,  there  is  no  water. 
Most  of  the  wells  around  have  been  made  unserviceable  by  the 
inhabitants,  far  and  wide  there  is  not  a  piece  of  bread  to  be 
obtained.  All  rooms  that  have  a  roof  over  them,  churches, 
country  houses,  chateaux,  huts,  all  are  filled  with  sick.  Every- 
thing in  the  shape  of  a  carriage  has  been  sent  off  with  its  load 
of  wounded.  The  roads  in  all  directions  are  covered  with 
such  carts  of  hell,  for  in  truth  the  sufferings  carried  by  those 
wheels  are  hellish.  There  they  lie — officers,  petty  officers, 
soldiers,  disfigured  by  dirt  and  dust  and  blood  till  they  are 
unrecognisable — with  wounds  for  which  there  is  no  human  help 
available,  uttering  cries  of  pain,  shrieks  which  are  hardly 
human;  and  yet  those  who  can  still  cry  are  not  the  most 
pitiable." 

"  Then  many  die  on  the  way." 

"  Certainly,  or  after  they  are  unloaded  they  finish  quietly  and 
unobserved  on  the  first  bundle  of  straw  on  which  they  have 
been  left  to  die.  Some  quietly,  but  others  raving  and  raging 
in  a  desperate  fight  with  Death,  uttering  such  curses  as  might 
make  your  hair  stand  on  end.  It  must  have  been  curses  like 
these  that  that  Mr.  Twining  of  London  heard  who  made  the 
following  proposal  at  the  Geneva  Conference :  *  Would  it  not 
be  well,  if  the  condition  of  a  wounded  man  leaves  not  the 
slightest  hope  of  recovery,  in  such  a  case  to  give  him  first  the 
consolations  of  religion,  then,  as  far  as  the  circumstances 
allow,  leave  him  a  moment  for  reflection  and  then  put  an  end 
to  his  agony  in  the  least  painful  way  possible?  This  would 
prevent  his  dying  a  few  moments  later,  with  fever  in  his  brain, 
and  perhaps  blasphemies  against  God  on  his  tongue.' " 

"  How  unchristian ! "  cried  Frau  Simon. 

"  What,  to  give  him  the  coup  de  grBa  f  " 

"Na  but  the  idea  thai  a  blasphemous  expression  wrung 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  26g 

from  the  soul  of  a  man  in  the  midst  of  unbearable  tortures 
could  imperil  his  souL  The  Christian's  God  is  not  so  unjust 
as  that,  and  assuredly  will  take  every  fallen  warrior  into  His 
grace." 

"  Mahomet's  paradise  was  assured  to  every  Mussulman  who 
had  killed  a  Christian,"  replied  Bresser.  "Believe  me,  my 
dear  Frau  Simon,  all  those  deities  who  have  been  represented 
as  leaders  of  wars,  and  whose  assistance  and  blessing  the  priests 
and  commanders  promise  as  the  wages  of  murder,  all  of  them 
are  as  deaf  to  blasphemies  as  to  prayers.  Look  up  there ;  that 
star  of  the  first  magnitude,  with  reddish  light,  it  is  only  seen 
twinkling  or  rather  shining,  for  it  does  not  twinkle,  over  our 
heads  every  second  year,  that  is  the  planet  Mars,  the  star  dedi- 
cated to  the  God  of  War,  that  god  who  was  so  feared  and 
reverenced  in  old  times  that  he  had  by  far  more  temples  than 
the  Goddess  of  Love.  Of  old  on  the  field  of  Marathon,  in  the 
narrow  pass  of  Thermopylae,  that  star  shed  a  bloody  light  on 
the  battles  of  men,  and  to  him  rose  up  the  curses  of  the  fallen 
who  accused  him  of  their  misfortune,  while  he  indifferent  and 
peaceful,  then  as  now,  was  circling  round  the  sun.  Hostile 
stars  ?  there  are  no  such  things.  Man  has  no  enemy  except 
man,  but  he  is  savage  enough.  And  no  other  friend  either," 
added  Bresser  after  a  short  pause ;  "  of  that  you  yourself  are 
giving  an  example,  magnanimous  lady.     You  are " 

"  O  doctor,"  interrupted  Frau  Simon ;  "  look  there,  that 
flame  on  the  horizon,  it  is  surely  a  village  in  flames " 

I  opened  my  eyes  and  saw  the  red  glare. 

"  No,"  said  Dr.  Bresser,  "  it  is  the  moon  rising." 

I  tried  to  get  into  a  more  comfortable  position,  and  sat  up 
for  a  time.  I  kept  constantly  preventing  myself  from  closing 
my  eyes,  for  that  state  of  half-slumber,  with  the  consciousness  of 
not  being  asleep,  in  which  the  most  horrible  fancy-pictures 
carried  on  their  wild  procession,  was  far  too  painful.  Better  to 
take  part  in  the  conversation  of  the  other  two,  and  tear  myself 
away  from  my  own  thoughts.  But  the  gentleman  and  lady 
were  dumb.     They  were  looking  towards  the  place  where  now 


270  LAT  DOWN   TOUR  ARMt. 

the  luminarf  of  night  was  really  rising.  And  again  in  spite  of 
me  my  eyes  closed  for  a  space.  This  time  it  was  sleep.  In 
the  one  second  during  which  I  felt  that  I  was  going  to  sleep, 
that  the  world  around  me  was  ceasing  to  exist,  I  felt  such  a 
delight  in  annihilation  that  the  brother  of  my  benefactor,  Death, 
would  have  been  quite  welcome  to  me. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  a  space  I  passed  in  this  negatively 
happy  state  of  removal  from  existence,  but  I  was  torn  out  of  it 
suddenly  and  forcibly.     It  was  no  noise,  no  shock  that  woke 
me,  but  a  vapour  of  intolerably  poisoned  air. 
"What  is  that?" 

The  others  called  out  the  same  question  at  the  same  time 
as  I  did. 

Our  waggon  turned  round  a  comer,  and  at  the  side  of  the 
way  we  found  the  answer.  Brightly  lighted  by  the  moon  there 
stood  up  a  white  wall,  probably  of  a  church.  Anyhow,  it  had 
served  as  a  cover  from  gunshot  At  its  foot,  heaped  up,  lay 
numerous  corpses.  It  was  the  smell  of  putrefaction,  which 
rose  up  from  their  dead  bodies,  that  had  broken  my  sleep.  As 
we  drove  by,  a  thick  crowd  of  ravens  and  crows  rose  screaming 
from  the  heap  of  dead,  fluttered  for  a  time,  as  a  black  cloud 
against  the  clear  background  of  the  sky,  and  then  settled  down 
again  to  their  feast. 

"  Frederick !  my  Frederick  !  * 

"  Calm  yourself.  Baroness  Martha,"  said  Bresser  consolingly 
"  Your  husband  could  not  have  been  present  there." 

The  soldier  who  was  driving  had  pressed  his  team  on  in  order 
to  get  away  the  quicker  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  mephitic 
vapour — the  conveyance  clattered  and  jolted  as  if  we  were  in 
wild  flight.  I  thought  the  horses  had  run  away  .  .  .  trembling 
fear  took  hold  on  me.  With  both  hands  I  clasped  Bresser*s 
arm,  but  I  could  not  help  turning  my  head  back  to  look  t/iere 
at  that  wall,  and — was  it  the  deceptive  light  of  the  moon,  or 
was  it  the  movements  hither  and  thither  of  the  birds  as  they 
came  back  to  their  booty  ?  I  thought  that  the  whole  troop  of 
the  dead  rose  up,  and   that  the  corpses  all  stretched  theii 


MAY  DOWN   TOUR  A&Mft.  27 1 

Wins  towards  ui,  and  made  ready  to  pursue  us.  I  would  have 
shrieked,  but  my  throat  was  closed  by  fear  and  would  not  obey 
my  impulse. 

Again  the  waggon  turned  round  the  comer  of  a  street 

"  Here  we  are— this  is  Horonewos,"  I  heard  the  doctor  say, 
and  he  ordered  the  driver  to  stop. 

"What  are  we  to  do  with  the  lady?"  said  Frau  Simon 
complainingly.  "She  will  be  rather  a  hindrance  than  any 
help." 

I  collected  myself.  "  No,  no,"  I  said,  "  I  am  better  now ;  I 
will  do  all  I  can  to  help  you." 

We  found  ourselves  in  the  middle  of  the  village  at  the  gate 
of  a  chateau. 

"  We  will  first  do  here  what  there  is  to  do,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  The  chateau,  which  is  deserted  by  its  owners,  must  be  filled 
from  cellar  to  roof  with  wounded." 

We  got  out.  I  could  hardly  keep  on  my  feet,  but  stiffened 
myself  with  all  my  force,  so  as  not  to  give  in. 

"  Forward,"  said  Frau  Simon.  "  Have  we  all  our  luggage  ? 
What  I  am  bringing  with  me  will  give  the  people  some 
refreshment." 

"There  are  restoratives  and  bandages  in  my  box  too,"  said  I. 

"And  my  hand-bag  contains  instruments  and  medicines," 
added  Bresser.  Then  we  gave  the  needful  orders  to  the 
soldiers  who  accompanied  us ;  two  were  to  wait  with  the 
horses  and  the  others  come  with  us. 

We  passed  under  the  gate  of  the  chateau.  Stifled  sounds 
of  woe  proceeded  from  various  sides.     All  was  dark. 

"  Light !  the  first  thing  is  to  strike  a  light  I "  called  out 
Frau  Simon. 

Alas  !  we  had  brought  all  possible  things  with  us — chocolate, 
meat  essence,  cigars,  strips  of  linen,  but  no  one  had  thought  of 
a  candle.  There  was  no  means  of  illuminating  the  darkness 
which  surrounded  us  and  the  poor  fellows.  Only  a  box  of 
lucifers,  which  the  doctor  had  in  his  pocket,  enabled  us  for  a 


272  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

few  seconds  to  see  the  terrible  pictures  which  filled  this  abode 
of  the  wretched.  The  foot  slipped  on  the  floor,  slippery  with 
blood,  if  one  tried  to  go  on.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  To  the 
hundred  despairing  men  who  were  groaning  and  sighing  here 
a  few  more  people  had  come  to  despair  and  sigh.  "  What  is 
to  be  done  ?     What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  I  will  find  out  the  clergyman^s  house,"  said  Frau  Simon, 
"  or  get  some  assistance  somewhere  else  in  the  village.  Come, 
doctor,  you  conduct  me  with  your  lucifer-matches  to  the  egress, 
and  you,  Frau  Martha,  remain  here  meanwhile.** 

Here,  alone,  in  the  dark,  amongst  all  these  wailing  people, 
in  this  stifling  odour  ?  What  a  situation  !  I  shuddered  to  the 
marrow  of  my  bones.     But  I  said  nothing  against  it. 

"Yes,*'  I  replied,  "I  will  remain  on  this  spot,  and  wait 
till  you  come  back  with  the  light.** 

"  No,'*  cried  Bresser,  putting  his  arm  through  mine.  "  Come 
with  us.  You  must  not  be  left  behind  in  this  purgatory,  amongst 
men  who  may  be  in  the  delirium  of  fever.** 

I  was  thankful  to  my  friend  for  this  speech,  and  clung  tight 
to  his  arm.  To  stop  behind  in  these  rooms  might  perhaps 
have  driven  me  mad  with  fear.  Ah,  I  was  still  a  cowardly, 
helpless  creature,  not  brought  up  to  the  misery  and  the  horror 
into  which  I  had  now  plunged.  Why  had  I  not  kept  at  home  ? 
Still,  supposing  I  should  find  Frederick  again?  Who  could 
tell  whether  he  might  not  be  lying  in  these  same  dark  rooms, 
which  we  were  just  quitting  ?  As  we  went  out  I  called  out  his 
name  more  than  once,  but  the  answer  which  I  hoped  for  and 
feared  :  "  Here  I  am,  Martha,'*  was  not  returned. 

We  got  again  into  the  open  air.  The  waggon  was  standing 
in  the  same  place.  Dr.  Bresser  decided  that  I  should  get  in 
again. 

"  Frau  Simon  and  I  are  going  meanwhile  into  the  village  to 
seek  for  aid,  and  you  shall  remain  here.** 

I  willingly  submitted,  for  my  feet  could  hardly  carry  me. 
The  doctor  helped  me  to  get  up  and  arranged  a  convenient 
seat  for  me  with  the  straw  that  was  lying  about.     Two  soldiers 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  873 

remained  behind  with  the  waggon.  The  rest  Frau  Simon  and 
the  doctor  took  along  with  them. 

After  about  half-an-hour  the  whole  expedition  came  back. 
No  success.  The  parsonage  was  destroyed,  like  everything 
else,  and  empty.  All  the  houses  in  ruins  ;  no  light  to  be 
obtained  anywhere.  So  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done 
except  to  wait  till  day  dawned.  How  many  of  the  poor 
wretches  in  whom  our  coming  had  already  roused  hope,  and 
whom  our  aid  might  still  have  saved,  might  perhaps  die  during 
this  night? 

What  a  long,  long  night  that  was  !  Though  in  reality  only 
between  three  and  four  hours  passed  before  sunrise,  how  endless 
these  hours  necessarily  seemed  to  us,  their  course  being 
marked,  not  by  the  ticking  of  a  clock,  but  by  the  helpless  cries 
of  fellow-men  for  aid. 

At  last  the  morning  dawned.  Now  we  could  act.  Frau 
Simon  and  Dr.  Bresser  took  the  road  again  to  see  whether  they 
could  rouse  up  some  of  the  concealed  inhabitants  of  the  village. 
They  succeeded.  Out  of  the  ruins  here  and  there  one  or  two 
peasants  crawled  forth,  at  first  morose  and  distrustful.  When, 
however,  Dr.  Bresser  spoke  to  them  in  their  own  language,  and 
Frau  Simon  urged  them  with  her  soft  voice,  they  agreed  to  give 
their  services.  It  was  necessary  before  all  things  to  recruit  all 
the  other  hidden  villagers,  so  that  they  might  help  in  the  work 
— bury  the  dead  that  were  lying  about,  get  the  wells  into 
working  order  so  as  to  procure  water  for  the  living,  collect  the 
field  kettles  that  lay  scattered  about  the  roads  so  as  to  have 
vessels,  empty  the  knapsacks  of  the  slain  and  the  dead,  and  use 
the  linen  they  contained  for  the  wounded.  Now  arrived  also 
a  Prussian  staff-surgeon  with  men  and  aid  materials,  and  then 
the  work  of  bringing  help  to  these  poor  creatures  could  be 
undertaken  with  some  success.  Now  the  moment  was  come 
for  me  too,  when  I  might  perhaps  discover  him  at  whose 
fancied  call  I  had  undertaken  this  luckless  journey,  and  whose 
recollection  whipped  up  to  some  extent  my  fiuling  powers. 

Frau  Simon    betook    herself,   under  the  conduct    of  the 

18 


274  ''^^  DOWN  TOUR   ARMS. 

Prussian  snrgeon,  first  to  the  chateau,  where  most  of  the 
wounded  were  lying.  Dr,  Bresser  chose  to  search  through  the 
other  places  in  the  village.  I  preferred  to  keep  with  my  friend, 
and  went  along  with  him.  That  Frederick  was  not  lying  in  the 
chateau  the  doctor  had  discovered  by  a  previous  look  round 
it. 

We  had  hardly  gone  a  hundred  paces  when  loud  cries  of 
pain  smote  on  our  ears.  They  came  from  the  open  door  of 
the  little  village  church.  We  went  in.  There  more  than  a 
hundred  men  were  lying  on  the  hard  stone  pavement,  severely 
wounded,  crippled.  With  feverish,  wandering  eyes  they 
shrieked  and  cried  for  water.  I  had  nearly  sunk  down  even 
on  the  threshold ;  still  I  walked  through  the  whole  row.  I 
was  seeking  for  Frederick.     He  was  not  there. 

Bresser  with  his  people  set  themselves  to  attend  to  the  poor 
fellows.  I  leaned  against  a  side  altar,  and  contemplated  the 
scene  of  woe  with  infinite  horror. 

And  this  was  the  temple  of  the  God  of  Love  I  These  were 
the  wonder-working  saints  who  were  there  folding  their  hands 
so  piously  in  the  niches  and  on  the  walls,  and  lifting  up  their 
heads  with  the  golden  glories  round  them  1  "  Oh  Mother  of 
God — holy  Mother  of  God,  one  drop  of  water ;  have  mercy 
on  me  1  '*  I  heard  a  poor  soldier  pray.  That  prayer  he  had 
probably  been  addressing  all  the  long  day  to  the  gaudily- 
painted  dumb  image.  Ah  poor  men  I  Till  you  yourselves 
have  listened  to  the  command  of  love  which  God  has  put  into 
your  own  hearts  you  will  always  call  in  vain  upon  God's  love. 
So  long  as  cruelty  is  not  overcome  in  your  own  selves  you  havt 
nothing  to  hope  from  the  compassion  of  heaven. 

Ah,  how  much  I  had  to  see  and  to  go  through  in  the  whole 
of  this  same  day  I  It  would  in  truth  be  the  simplest  way  and 
the  most  pleasant  to  pursue  the  narrative  no  ftirther.  One 
shuts  one's  eyes  and  turns  away  one's  head  when  something 
altogether  too  horrid  presents  itself — even  the  recollection  has 
the  power  to  make  one  shut  one's  eyes.     And  if  there  is  no 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMt.  275 

more  power  to  help  (and  what  can  be  altered  in  this  stony 
past  ?)  why  torture  oneself  and  others  by  writing  up  these 
horrors  ? 

Why  ?  I  will  answer  the  question  afterwards.  Now  I  can 
only  say  I  must  do  it. 

More  still.  I  will  not  merely  tax  my  own  memory  that  I 
may  be  able  to  relate  what  I  have  in  view,  for  my  powers  of 
perception  were  far  too  weak  to  bear  the  burden  of  the  events, 
but  I  will  also  add  what  Frau  Simon,  Dr.  Bresser,  and  the  Saxon 
inspector  of  field  hospitals,  Dr.  Naundorff,  told  me.  As  in 
Horonewos,  so  also  in  many  of  the  villages  in  this  neighbour- 
hood, Hell  had  set  up  branch  establishments.  It  was  so  in 
Sweti,  in  Hradeck,  in  Problus.  So  in  Pardubitz,  where,  when  the 
Prussians  first  took  possession  of  it,  "  over  one  thousand  severely 
wounded  men,  operations  and  amputations,  were  lying  about, 
some  dying,  some  already  dead,  corpses  mixed  with  those  in 
the  act  of  death,  and  those  who  envied  them  their  end, 
many  with  nothing  on  but  bloody  shirts,  so  that  no  one  could 
tell  even  what  countrymen  they  were.  All  those  who  had  still 
a  spark  of  life  in  them  were  shrieking  for  water  and  bread, 
writhing  with  the  pain  of  their  wounds,  and  begging  for  death 
as  a  blessing." 

"Rossnitz,"  writes  Dr.  Bauer  in  his  letters — "Rossnitz,  a 
place  whose  picture  will  live  in  my  memory  till  the  hour  of  my 
death — Rossnitz,  whither  I  was  sent  by  the  St.  John's  Society 
six  days  after  the  murderous  fight,  and  where  the  greatest 
misery  which  the  human  fancy  can  picture  was  still  reigning 
down  to  that  day.  I  found  there  *R.'  of  ours  with  650 
wounded,  who  were  lying  in  wretched  bams  and  stables 
without  any  nursing  in  the  midst  of  death  and  half-dead  men, 
some  of  them  lying  for  days  in  their  own  offal.  It  was  here 
that  after  the  erection  of  the  funeral  mound  of  the  fallen 

Lt-Col.  von  F I  was  so  overcome  with  pain  that  for  an 

hour  I  poured  out  the  hottest  tears  and  could  hardly  regain  self- 
control  in  spite  of  the  expenditure  of  all  my  moral  force. 
Though  as  a  medical  man  I  am  accustomed  to  look  at  human 


276  LAY   DOWN   TOUR   ARMS. 

suffering  in  all  its  forms,  and  in  the  exercise  of  my  profession 
have  learnt  to  bear  the  shrieks  of  tortured  human  nature,  yet 
here  in  very  truth  tears  which  I  could  not  repress  welled  from 
my  eyes.  It  was  here  in  Rossnitz  that  when,  on  the  second 
day,  I  found  that  our  powers  were  not  equal  to  cope  with  such 
misery,  I  lost  courage  and  left  off  dressing  the  wounds." 

"  In  what  condition  were  these  600  men  ? "  It  is  Dr. 
Naundorff  who  is  speaking  this  time,  "It  is  impossible  to 
depict  it  accurately.  Flies  were  feeding  on  their  open 
wounds,  which  were  covered  with  them;  their  gaze,  flaming 
with  fever,  wandered  about  asking  and  seeking  for  some 
help — for  refreshment,  for  water  and  bread!  Coat,  shirt, 
flesh  and  blood  formed  in  the  case  of  most  of  them  one 
repulsive  mass.  Worms  were  beginning  to  generate  in  this 
mass  and  to  feed  on  them,  A  horrible  odour  filled  every  place. 
All  these  soldiers  were  lying  on  the  bare  ground ;  only  a  few 
had  got  a  little  straw  on  which  they  could  repose  their 
miserable  bodies.  Some  who  had  nothing  under  them  but 
clayey,  swampy  ground  had  half  sunk  into  the  mud  it  formed  ; 
they  had  not  the  strength  to  get  out  of  it.  Others  lay  in  a 
puddle  of  horrible  fiJth  which  no  pen  could  consent  to 
describe." 

"In  Masloved,"  so  says  Frau  Simon,  "a  place  of  about 
fifty  houses,  there  were  lying,  eight  days  after  the  battle,  about 
700  wounded.  It  was  not  so  much  their  shrieks  of  agony  as 
their  abandonment  without  any  consolation  which  appealed  to 
heaven.  In  one  single  barn  alone  sixty  of  these  poor  wretches 
were  crowded.  Every  one  of  their  wounds  had  originally 
been  severe,  but  they  had  become  hopeless  in  consequence  of 
their  unassisted  condition,  and  their  want  of  nursing  and 
feeding ;  almost  all  were  gangrenous.  Limbs  crushed  by  shot 
formed  now  mere  heaps  of  putrefying  flesh,  faces  a  mere  mass 
of  coagulated  blood,  covered  with  filth,  in  which  the  mouth 
was  represented  by  a  shapeless  black  opening,  from  which 
frightful  groans  kept  welling  out.  The  progress  of  putrefaction 
separated  whole  mortified  pieces  firom  these  pitiable  bodies, 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  877 

The  living  were  lying  close  to  dead  bodies  which  had  begun 
to  fall  into  putrefaction,  and  for  which  the  worms  were  getting 
ready. 

"These  sixty  men,  as  well  as  the  greater  number  of  the 
others,  lay  for  a  week  in  the  same  situation.  Their  wounds 
were  either  not  dressed  at  all,  or  only  in  a  most  imperfect 
way — since  the  day  of  the  battle  they  lay  there,  incapable  of 
moving  from  the  spot — only  scantily  fed,  and  without  sufficient 
water.  The  bedding  under  them  corrupting  with  blood  and 
excrement — that  is  how  they  passed  eight  days  !  living  corpses 
— through  whose  quivering  limbs  a  stream  of  poisoned  blood 
hardly  circulated.  They  had  not  been  able  to  die,  and  yet 
how  could  they  expect  ever  again  to  return  to  life  ?  Which  is 
the  more  astonishing  in  this  matter,"  says  Frau  Simon,  in  con- 
cluding her  tale,  "the  eternal  living  force  of  human  nature, 
which  could  endure  all  this  and  yet  go  on  breathing,  or  the 
want  of  efficient  assistance  ?  " 

What  is  most  astonishing,  according  to  my  way  of  looking 
at  it,  is,  that  men  should  bring  each  other  into  such  a  state — 
that  men  who  have  seen  such  a  sight  should  not  sink  on  their 
knees  and  swear  a  passionate  oath  to  make  war  on  war — that 
if  they  are  princes  they  do  not  fling  the  sword  away— or  if  they 
are  not  in  any  position  of  power,  they  do  not  from  that  moment 
devote  their  whole  action  in  speech  or  writing,  in  thought,  teach- 
ing or  business  to  this  one  end — Lay  down  your  arms. 

Frao  Simon — she  was  called  the  Mother  of  the  Lazarettos 
— was  a  heroine.  For  weeks  she  stayed  in  that  neighbourhood 
and  bore  all  privations  and  dangers.  Hundreds  were  saved  by 
her  agency.  Day  and  night  she  worked,  provided,  directed. 
Sometimes  she  was  doing  the  lowest  offices  beside  the  sick- 
beds, sometimes  ordering  the  transport  of  wounded,  some- 
times requisitioning  necessaries.  When  she  had  provided 
assistance  in  one  place,  she  hastened  without  any  rest  to 
another;  she  got  a  copious  supply  from  Dresden,  and  con- 
▼eyed  it  in  spite  of  all  opposing  difficulties  to  the  points  where 


27^  I^Y  DOWN   YOUR  ARICt. 

help  was  needed.  She  undertook  to  represent  the  Patriotic 
Aid  Society  on  the  soil  of  Bohemia,  and  made  a  position  fox 
herself  there  equal  to  that  which  Florence  Nightingale  took  in 
the  Crimea.  And  as  to  me?  Exhausted,  comfortless,  over- 
powered by  pain  and  disgust,  I  had  no  ponrer  to  render  any 
help.  Even  in  the  church — our  first  station — I  had  fallen 
fainting  with  fatigue  on  the  steps  of  that  altar  of  the  Virgin, 
and  Dr.  Bresser  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  bring  me  round 
again.  Thence  I  tottered  a  little  further  by  his  side,  and  we 
got  into  just  such  a  barn  as  Frau  Simon  has  depicted.  In  the 
church  there  was  at  least  a  large  space,  in  which  the  poor 
fellows  lay  side  by  side ;  here  they  were  crowded  upon  each 
other,  or  in  each  other's  arms,  in  heaps  or  rolls.  Into  the 
church  there  had  come  nurses — probably  some  sanitary  corps 
on  its  march  through — and  these  had  given  some  help,  though 
insufficient.  But  here  they  were  mere  castaways  quite  undis- 
covered— a  crawling  whining  mass  of  half-putrefied  remains  of 
men.  Choking  disgust  laid  hold  of  my  throat,  the  bitterest 
grief  of  my  breast.  I  felt  as  if  my  heart  was  breaking  in  two, 
and  I  gave  utterance  to  a  resounding  shriek.  This  shriek  is 
the  last  thing  remaining  in  my  memory  of  that  scene.  ^ 

V  When  I  came  to  my  senses  again,  I  found  myself  in  a 
railway  carriage  in  motion.  Opposite  me  sat  Dr.  Bresser. 
When  he  perceived  that  I  had  opened  my  eyes,  and  was 
looking  about  me  astonished  and  questioning,  he  took  my 
hand. 

"  Yes,  yes.  Lady  Martha,"  he  said,  "  this  is  a  second-class 
carriage.  You  are  not  dreaming.  You  are  here  in  company 
with  a  slightly  wounded  officer  and  your  friend  Bresser,  and  we 
are  on  our  way  to  Vienna." 

So  it  was.  The  doctor  had  brought  a  detachment  of 
wounded  from  Horonewos  to  Koniginhof,  and  from  thence 
another  detachment  had  been  given  into  his  charge  to  transport 
to  Vienna.  Me,  in  my  fainting  state,  fainting  in  both  senses 
of  the  word,  he  had  taken  with  him  and  was  bringing  home. 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  279 

I  had  shown  myself  to  be  entirely  useless  and  incapable  in 
those  abodes  of  misery,  only  a  hindrance  and  a  burden.  Frau 
Simon  was  very  glad  when  Dr.  Bresser  got  me  out  of  the  way. 
And  I  was  obliged  to  allow  that  it  was  better  so.  But 
Frederick?  I  had  not  found  him.  Thank  God  that  I  had 
not  found  him,  for  then  all  hope  was  not  dead,  and  if  I  had 
been  obliged  to  recognise  my  beloved  husband  among  those 
shapes  of  woe,  I  should  have  gone  mad.  Perhaps  I  should 
find  at  home  a  letter  for  me  from  my  Frederick  !  This  hope, 
no,  it  would  be  too  much  to  say  "  hope,"  but  the  thought  of 
this  bare  possibility  poured  balm  into  my  wounded  soul.  Yes, 
wounded.  I  felt  my  inmost  soul  wounded.  The  gigantic  woe 
which  I  had  seen  had  cut  so  deep  into  my  own  heart  that  I  felt 
as  if  it  would  never  be  healed  again  completely.  Even  if  I 
were  to  find  my  Frederick  again,  even  if  a  long  future  of 
brilliancy  and  love  were  granted  me,  could  I  ever  forget  that 
so  many  others  of  my  poor  human  brothers  and  sisters  had  had 
to  bear  such  unspeakable  misery  ?  And  must  go  on  bearing  it 
till  they  come  to  see  that  this  misery  is  no  fatality  but  a  crime. 

I  slept  almost  the  whole  way.  Dr.  Bresser  had  given  me 
a  slight  narcotic,  so  that  a  longer  and  sounder  sleep  might 
to  some  extent  calm  my  nerves,  which  had  been  so  shattered 
by  the  occurrences  at  Horonewos. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  Vienna  station,  my  father  was 
already  there  to  take  me  away.  Dr.  Bresser,  who  thought  of 
everything,  had  telegraphed  to  Grumitz.  It  was  not  possible 
for  him  himself  to  see  me  there,  for  he  had  his  wounded  to 
see  into  the  hospital,  and  wished  then  to  return  to  Bohemia 
without  delay. 

My  father  embraced  me  in  silence,  and  I  also  did  not  find 
a  word  to  say.     Then  he  turned  to  Dr.  Bresser. 

*'  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  If  you  had  not  taken  this  little 
crazy  thing  under  your  protection *' 

But  the  doctor  pressed  our  hands  hastily. 

•*  I  must  go,"  he  said.  "  I  have  duty  to  do.  May  you  get 
home  safely.   The  young  lady  wants  forbearance,  your  excellency. 


28o  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

She  has  had  a  terrible  shaking.  No  reproaches,  no  questioning. 
Get  her  quick  to  bed.  Orange-flower  water — rest.  Good-bye.* 
And  he  was  gone. 

My  father  put  my  arm  in  his  and  led  me  through  the  crowd 
to  the  exit.  There  again  a  long  row  of  ambulance  waggons 
was  standing.  We  had  to  go  some  distance  on  foot  till  we 
could  get  to  the  place  where  our  carriage  was  waiting. 

The  question :  *^  Has  any  news  of  Frederick  come  during  this 
while?"  rose  several  times  to  my  lips,  but  I  could  not  find 
courage  to  give  voice  to  it.  At  last,  when  we  had  driven  some 
distance,  while  my  father  kept  silence  all  the  way,  I  brought  it 
out. 

"  Not  up  to  yesterday,**  was  the  reply.  "  It  is  possible  that 
we  may  find  news  to-day.  It  was,  of  course,  yesterday, 
immediately  after  the  receipt  of  the  telegram,  that  I  left  for  the 
city.  Oh,  what  a  fright  you  have  given  us,  you  silly  creature ! 
To  go  to  the  battlefields,  where  you  might  meet  the  most 
cruel  enemies,  for  these  folks  are  just  like  savages.  They  are 
perfectly  intoxicated  with  the  victories  of  their  needle-rifle, 
and  all ;  they  are  no  disciplined  soldiers,  these  landwehr  fellows ; 
from  such  men  you  may  be  sure  of  the  worst  outrages,  and  you — 

a  lady — ^to  run  into  the  midst  of  them — you However, 

the  doctor  just  now  ordered  me  not  to  scold  you.** 

"  How  is  my  son  Rudolf?  " 

"  He  is  crying  and  moaning  about  you,  seeking  you  all  over 
the  house,  will  not  believe  that  you  could  have  gone  away 
without  giving  him  a  parting  kiss.  And  do  not  you  ask  after 
the  rest?  Lilly,  Rosa,  Otto,  Aunt  Mary?  You  seem  to  me 
altogether  so  indifferent." 

"  How  are  they  all  ?     Has  Conrad  written  ?  *' 

"  They  are  all  well.  A  letter  arrived  yesterday  from  Conrad. 
Nothing  has  happened  to  him.  Lilly  is  happy.  You  will  see 
that  good  news  will  very  soon  arrive  about  Tilling  too. 
Unfortunately  there  is  nothing  good  to  be  hoped  in  a 
political  point  of  view.  You  have  surely  heard  of  the 
great  calamity?" 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMl.  a8l 

••  Whidi  ?  In  the  present  state  of  things  1  ha^  e  seen  nothing 
but  great  calamities." 

"  I  mean  Venice.  Our  beautiful  Venice  given  away — made 
a  present  of  to  that  intriguer  Louis  Napoleon,  and  that  after 
such  a  brilliant  victory  as  we  won  at  Custozzal  Instead  of 
getting  back  our  Lombardy  to  give  up  our  Venice  as  well  I  It 
is  true  that  by  this  means  we  get  free  from  our  enemies  in  the 
South,  have  Louis  Napoleon  too  on  our  side,  and  can  now 
with  our  whole  force  take  our  revenge  for  Sadowa,  chase  the 
Prussians  out  of  our  country,  follow  them  up  and  gain  Silesia 
for  ourselves.  Benedek  has  committed  great  mistakes,  but  now 
the  chief  command  will  be  put  into  the  hand  of  the  glorious 
commander  of  the  Army  of  the  South.  But  you  make  no 
reply?  Well,  then,  I  will  follow  Bresser's  prescription  and 
give  you  repose." 

After  a  drive  of  two  hours  we  arrived  at  Grumitz. 

As  our  carriage  drove  into  the  court  of  the  chateau  my  sisters 
ran  out  to  meet  me. 

"  Martha !  Martha  1 "  both  of  them  shouted  from  a  distance. 
"  He  is  there." 

And  again  at  the  carriage  door :  "  He  is  there  ". 

"Who?" 

"  Frederick,  your  husband." 

Yes,  so  it  was.  It  was  the  day  before,  late  in  the  evening, 
that  Frederick  had  been  brought  with  a  consignment  of 
wounded  from  Bohemia  to  Vienna  and  from  thence  here.  He 
had  received  a  bullet  in  his  leg,  a  wound  which  rendered  him 
for  the  moment  unfit  for  service  and  in  need  of  nursing,  but 
was  entirely  free  from  danger. 

But  joy  is  also  hard  to  bear.  The  news  then  shouted  to  me 
by  my  sisters,  so  entirely  without  preparation,  that  "  Frederick 
was  there,'*  had  just  the  same  efifect  as  the  terrcr  of  the  past 
days — it  deprived  me  of  consciousness. 

They  were  obliged  to  carry  me  from  the  carriage  into  the 
chateau,  and  put  me  to  bed.     Here,  whether  from  the  after* 


28a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

effect  of  the  narcotic,  or  the  violence  of  the  shock  of  joy,  1 
spent  several  hours  in  unconsciousness,  sometimes  slumbering, 
sometimes  delirious.  When  I  came  to  myself  and  found 
myself  in  my  own  bed  I  believed  myself  to  have  awoke  from 
a  dreadful  dream,  and  thought  I  had  never  left  Grumitz. 
Bresser*8  letter,  my  resolution  to  start  for  Bohemia,  my 
experiences  there,  the  homeward  journey,  the  news  of  Frede- 
rick's return  home — all  was  a  dream. 

I  looked  up.  My  femme  de  chambre  was  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed.  "  Is  my  bath  ready  ?  "  I  asked.  "  I  want  to 
get  up." 

Now  Aunt  Mary  rushed  forward  out  of  a  corner  of  the  room. 

**  Oh  Martha  !  poor  dear,  are  you  at  last  awake  and  restored 
to  your  senses  ?  God  be  praised.  Yes,  yes  ;  get  up  and  take 
your  bath.  That  will  do  you  good,  when  one  is  covered,  as 
you  are,  with  the  dust  of  the  roads  and  railways." 

"  Dust  from  railways ;  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Quick ;  get  up.  Netty,  get  everything  ready.  Frederick 
is  almost  dying  with  impatience  to  see  you." 

"  Frederick — my  Frederick  ?  " 

How  often  had  I  during  these  last  days  called  out  this  name, 
and  with  what  pain  1  But  now  it  was  a  cry  of  joy — for  now  I 
had  comprehended.  It  was  no  dream.  I  had  been  away  and 
come  back  again,  and  was  to  see  my  husband. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  I  went  into  his  room,  alone. 
I  had  requested  that  no  one  should  go  with  me.  No  third 
person  should  be  present  at  our  meeting. 

" Frederick  1"  "Martha I"  I  rushed  to  the  couch  od 
which  be  lay  and  sobbed  on  his  bosom. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

My  delight  in  the  restoration  of  my  husband. —  The  war  practically 
at  an  end :  but  the  Prussians  continue  their  advance  on 
Vienna  — Life  at  G^^mitz. — Military  education, — My 
brother  Otto. — Description  of  the  flight  of  a  routed  corps. — 
Peace  imminent. —  Victory  of  Lyssa. — Plans  for  the  future. 
— Conrad s  return, — The  soldier's  delight  in  war. 

This  was  the  second  time  in  my  life  that  my  beloved  husband 
had  been  restored  to  me  from  the  dangers  of  war. 

Oh  1  the  blessedness  of  having  him  once  more  with  me. 
How  was  it  that  I,  just  I,  had  succeeded  in  emerging  out  of  the 
flood  of  woe  in  which  so  many  had  sunk,  on  to  a  safe  and  happy 
shore  ?  Happy  for  those  who  in  such  circumstances  can  raise 
their  eyes  with  joy  to  heaven  and  send  up  warm  thanks  to  their 
Guide  above.  By  this  thanksgiving,  which,  because  it  is  spoken 
in  humility,  they  take  to  be  humble,  and  of  which  they  have 
no  conception  how  arrogant  and  self-important  it  is  in  reality, 
they  feel  themselves  relieved,  inasmuch  as  they  have,  according 
to  their  own  opinion,  given  a  sufficient  discharge  for  the  benefit 
wrhich  has  accrued  to  them,  and  which  they  call  grace  and 
favour.  I  could  not  put  myself  in  that  position.  When  I 
thought  of  the  wretches  whom  I  had  seen  in  those  abodes  of 
misery,  and  when  I  thought  of  the  lamentable  mothers  and 
wives  whose  dear  ones  had  been  hurried  into  torture  and  death 
by  the  same  destiny  as  had  so  favoured  me — when  I  thought 
of  this  I  found  it  impossible  to  be  so  immodest  as  to  take  this 
favour  as  having  been  sent  by  God,  and  one  for  which  I  was 
entitled  to  give  thanks.     It  appeared  to  me  that  just  as,  a  little 

(a83) 


284  LAY   DOWN   TOUR  ARMS. 

while  before,  Frau  Walter,  our  housekeeper,  had  swept  her 
broom  over  a  cupboard  on  which  a  swarm  of  ants  who  scented 
sugar  were  collected,  so  fate  had  swept  over  the  Bohemian 
battlefields.  The  poor  busy  black  things  were  mostly  crushed, 
killed,  scattered  ;  but  a  few  remained  uninjured.  Now,  would 
it  have  been  reasonable  and  proper  in  them  if  they  had  sent  up 
their  heartfelt  thanks  for  this  to  Frau  Walter  ?  No.  I  could 
not  entirely  banish  the  woe  out  of  my  heart  by  means  of  the 
joy  of  meeting  again,  however  great  that  were.  I  neither  could 
nor  did  I  wish  to  do  so.  I  was  not  able  to  help — to  dress 
wounds,  nurse,  wait  on  the  sick — like  those  sisters  of  mercy 
and  the  courageous  Frau  Simon  had  done  ;  my  strength  was  not 
sufficient  for  that.  But  the  mercy  which  consists  in  compassion, 
that  I  had  offered  up  to  my  poor  brother-men,  and  that  I  could 
not  withdraw  from  them  again  in  my  selfish  contentment  I 
could  not  forget. 

But  if  I  might  not  triumph  and  give  thanks  yet  I  well  might 
love — might  clasp  the  beloved  one  to  my  heart  with  a  hundred- 
fold the  former  tenderness.  "  Oh  Frederick,  Frederick  ! "  I 
repeated  amidst  our  tears  and  caresses,  "have  I  got  you 
again  ?  " 

"And  you  wanted  to  seek  me  out  and  nurse  me?  How 
heroic  and  how  foolish,  Martha  I " 

"  Foolish  1  Yes,  there  I  agree  with  you.  The  appealing 
voice  which  drew  me  on  was  imagination — superstition — ^for 
you  were  not  calling  for  me.  But  heroic  ?  No.  If  you  knew 
how  cowardly  I  showed  myself  when  face  to  face  with  misery  I 
It  was  only  you,  if  you  had  been  lying  there,  that  I  could  have 
nursed.  I  have  seen  horrors,  Frederick,  that  I  can  never 
forget.  Oh  !  this  beautiful  world  of  ours,  how  can  people  so 
spoil  it,  Frederick  ?  A  world  in  which  two  beings  can  so  love 
each  other  as  you  and  I  do,  in  which  there  can  glow  such  a  fire 
of  bliss  as  is  our  union,  how  can  it  be  so  foolish  as  to  rake  up 
the  flames  of  hate  which  brings  death  and  woe  in  its  train  ?  " 

"  I  also  have  seen  something  horrible,  Martha — something 
that  I  can  never  forget.    Just  think  of  Godfirey  t.  Tessow 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  28$ 

rushing  wildly  upon  me  with  uplifted  sword — it  was  in  the 
cavalry  action  at  Sadowa." 

"  Aunt  Rosalie's  son  ?  ** 

"  The  same ;  he  recognised  me  in  time,  and  let  the  blade 
sink  which  he  had  already  raised.'* 

"He  acted  in  that  directly  contrary  to  his  duty.  How? 
To  spare  an  enemy  of  his  king  and  country,  under  the 
worthless  pretext  that  he  was  his  own  dear  friend  and  cousin." 

"  Poor  fellow  I  He  had  scarcely  let  his  arm  fall  when  a 
sabre  whistled  over  his  head.  It  was  my  next  man,  a  young 
officer,  who  wanted  to  defend  his  lieutenant-colonel,  and " 

Frederick  stopped  and  covered  his  face  with  both  hands. 

"  Killed  ?  "  I  asked  shuddering.     He  nodded. 

"  Mamma,  mamma,"  resounded  from  the  next  reom,  and  the 
door  was  burst  open.  It  was  my  sister  Lilly,  leading  little 
Rudolf  by  the  hand. 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  interrupt  your  ^te-h-t^te  on  meeting  again, 
but  this  boy  was  too  ardently  eager  to  see  his  mamma  to  be 
denied." 

I  hastened  to  the  child  and  pressed  him  passionately  to  my 
heart     Ah  1  poor,  poor  Aunt  Rosalie ! 

On  the  very  same  day  the  surgeon  who  had  been  summoned 
by  telegraph  from  Vienna  arrived  at  the  chateau  and  undertook 
the  treatment  of  Frederick's  wound.  Six  weeks  of  the  most 
perfect  rest,  and  his  cure  would  be  complete. 

That  my  husband  should  quit  the  service  was  a  point 
perfectly  settled  between  us  two.  Of  course,  this  could  not 
be  carried  out  till  the  war  was  at  an  end.  The  war  might, 
however,  be  practically  looked  on  as  over.  After  the  renun- 
ciation of  Venice  the  conflict  with  Italy  was  ended,  Napoleon's 
friendship  secured,  and  we  should  be  in  a  position  to  conclude 
peace  on  moderate  terms  with  the  northern  conqueror.  Our 
emperor  himself  was  most  ardently  desirous  to  put  an  end  to 
the  unlucky  campaign,  and  would  not  expose  his  capital  to  a 
siege  also.  The  Prussian  victories  in  the  rest  of  Germany, 
joined  to  the  entry  of  the  Prussians  into  Frankfort-on-the-Main 


286  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

which  took  place  on  July  i6,  inrested  our  adversaries  with  a 
halo,  which,  like  all  success,  extorted  admiration  even  from 
our  countrymen,  and  awoke  a  sort  of  belief  that  it  was  an 
historical  mission  which  was  thus  being  carried  out  by  Prussia 
through  the  battles  she  had  won.  The  words  "  suspension  of 
hostilities,**  "peace,"  having  been  once  let  drop,  one  could 
count  on  their  taking  effect  as  certainly  as  in  the  times  when  a 
threatening  of  war  has  once  found  vent  one  may  reckon  on  its 
breaking  out  sooner  or  later.  Even  my  father  himself  admitted 
that  under  the  stress  of  circumstances  a  suspension  of  hostilities 
was  desirable ;  the  army  was  debilitated,  the  superiority  of  the 
needle-gun  must  be  recognised,  and  an  advance  of  the  enemy's 
troops  on  the  capital,  the  blockade  of  Vienna,  and  along  with 
that  the  destruction  of  Grumitz,  these  were  possibilities  which 
were  not  particularly  alluring  to  even  my  warlike  papa. 
His  trust  in  the  invincibility  of  the  Austrian  troops  had  then 
received  a  severe  shock  by  present  facts,  and  it  is,  speaking 
generally,  a  predisposition  of  the  human  mind  to  infer  from  the 
events  passing  before  us  that  they  will  recur  in  a  series,  that  on 
one  success  another  success  will  follow,  on  one  misfortune  a 
fresh  misfortune.  So  it  is  better  to  stop  in  the  run  of  bad  luck — 
the  time  of  satisfaction  and  of  vengeance  will  come  one  day. 

Vengeance  !  and  always  repeated  vengeance  1  Every  war 
must  leave  one  side  defeated,  and  if  this  side  can  only  find 
satisfaction  in  the  next  war,  a  war  which  must  naturally  produce 
another  defeated  side  craving  satisfaction,  when  is  it  to  stop  ? 
How  can  justice  be  attained,  when  can  old  injustice  be  atoned, 
if  fresh  injustice  is  always  to  be  employed  as  the  means  of 
atonement  ?  It  would  never  suggest  itself  to  any  reasonable 
man  to  wash  out  ink  spots  with  ink  and  oil  stains  with  oil,  it  is 
only  blood  which  has  always  to  be  washed  out  with  new  blood  ! 
The  frame  of  mind  prevailing  at  Grumitz  was  on  the  whole  a 
gloomy  one.  In  the  village  panic  reigned.  "  The  Prussians 
are  coming.  The  Prussians  are  coming "  was  always  the 
cry  of  terror  which  they  kept  uttering  still,  in  spite 
of   the   hopes    of   peace    which    were    cherished    in    nany 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  287 

quaners ;  and  people  were  packing  up  their  treasures  at  home 
or  burying  them  out  of  sight.  Even  in  the  chateau  Aunt  Mary 
and  Frau  Walter  had  taken  care  that  the  family  plate  had  been 
put  in  a  secret  place  of  concealment.  Lilly  was  in  constant 
anxiety  about  Conrad,  of  whom  there  had  been  no  news  for 
several  days ;  my  father  found  himself  wounded  in  his  patriotic 
honour,  and  we  two,  Frederick  and  I,  in  spite  of  the  bliss 
which  lay  deep  in  our  hearts  on  account  of  our  re-union,  had 
been  most  painfully  shaken  by  the  miseries  of  the  time  which 
we  had  experienced,  and  with  which  we  so  warmly  sympathised. 
And  from  all  sides  flowed  in  constantly  fresh  food  for  this  pain. 
In  all  the  correspondence  in  the  papers,  in  all  our  letters  from 
relatives  and  acquaintance,  there  was  nothing  but  complaints 
and  lamentations.  First  there  was  a  letter  from  Aunt  Rosalie, 
who  had  not  yet  learned  her  unhappiness,  but  who  spoke  in 
such  moving  terms  of  the  fear  in  which  she  was  of  having  to 
lose  her  only  child — a  letter  over  which  we  two  shed  bitter 
tears.  And  in  the  evening,  when  we  sat  all  together,  there  was 
no  more  of  cheerful  chatter,  seasoned  with  jokes,  music,  card- 
playing  and  interesting  reading,  but  always,  whether  spoken  or 
read,  only  histories  of  woe  and  death.  We  read  nothing  but 
newspapers,  and  these  were  filled  with  "war,"  and  nothing 
but  "war,"  and  our  talk  related  chiefly  to  the  experiences 
which  Frederick  and  I  had  brought  back  from  the  Bohemian 
battlefields.  My  departure  thither  had  been,  it  is  true,  taken 
very  ill  by  them  all,  but  for  all  that  they  listened  eagerly  as  I 
related  the  events  there,  partly  from  my  own  observation, 
partly  from  what  I  had  been  told.  Rosa  was  an  enthusiast 
for  Frau  Simon,  and  swore  that,  if  the  war  was  going  to  con- 
tinue, she  would  join  the  Saxon  Samaritans.  Papa,  of  course^ 
protested  against  this. 

"  With  the  exception  of  the  sisters  of  charity  and  the  sutlers 
no  woman  has  any  business  in  a  war.  You  must  surely  see 
how  useless  our  Martha  showed  herself  to  be.  That  was  an 
unpardonable  prank  of  yours,  you  silly  child.  Your  husbiand 
ought  to  chastise  you  properly  for  it." 


288  LAY   Down   TOUR   ARMt. 

Frederick  stroked  my  hand. 

"Yes,  it  was  a  folly,  but  a  noble  one." 

If  I  spoke  of  the  horrors  which  I  had  seen  with  mj 
own  eyes,  or  which  my  travelling  companions  had  related  to 
me,  in  quite  naked  terms,  I  was  often  interrupted  reproachfully 
by  my  father  or  Aunt  Mary,  with :  "  How  can  people  repeat 
such  dreadful  things  ? "  or,  "  Are  you  not  ashamed,  as  a 
woman,  as  a  gently  bred  lady,  to  take  such  ugly  words  into 
your  mouth  ?  "     This  exhausted  my  patience. 

"  Oh,  away  with  your  prudery !  away  with  your  affected 
decorum  !  Any  cruelties  may  be  committed,  but  it  is  not 
permitted  to  name  them.  Gently  bred  ladies  are  not  to  know 
anything  about  blood  and  filth,  but  they  may  embroider  the  flags 
which  are  to  wave  over  this  bath  of  blood ;  maidens  may  not 
know  anything  of  the  cause  which  is  to  render  their  lovers 
incapable  of  reaping  the  reward  of  their  love,  but  they  are 
allowed  to  promise  them  that  reward,  in  order  to  inspire  their 
martial  ardour.  Death  and  killing  do  not  offer  anything 
improper  for  you — well-bred  ladies  as  you  are — but  at  the  bare 
mention  of  the  things  which  are  the  sources  of  the  implanted 
life^  you  must  blush  and  look  aside.  That  is  cruel  ethics  I  would 
have  you  know— cruel  and  cowardly.  This  looking  aside — with 
the  bodily  and  the  spiritual  eye— it  is  to  this  that  is  due  the  per- 
sistence of  so  much  misery  and  injustice.  If  one  had  but  the 
courage  to  look  steadily  whenever  one's  fellow-creatures  are 
pining  in  pain  and  misery,  and  the  courage  to  reflect  on  what 
one  saw " 

"  Don't  get  excited,"  interrupted  Aunt  Mary ;  "however  much 
we  might  look,  and  however  much  we  might  reflect,  we  should 
never  be  able  to  chase  evil  from  the  earth.     It  is  now,  once  for 
all,  a  vale  of  misery,  and  will  ever  remain  so." 
/  "  It  will  not,"  I  replied ;  and  so  at  least  I  had  the  last  word. 

"  The  danger  that  peace  will  be  concluded  is  coming  steadily 
nearer,"  said  my  brother  Otto  complainingly  one  day. 
We  were  sitting  at  the  time  at  the  family  table  again^ 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  289 

Frederick  on  the  sofa  near  us,  and  some  one  had  just  read 
out  of  the  newspapers  the  tidings  that  Benedetti  had  arrived  in 
Bohemia,  obviously  entrusted  with  the  mission  of  suggesting 
proposals  for  peace. 

My  little  brother — he  was  indeed  big  enough  by  this  time, 
but  I  had  got  into  the  habit  of  calling  him  so — my  little  brother 
was  in  fear  of  nothing  so  much  as  that  the  war  would  come  to 
a  speedy  end,  and  it  would  not  be  his  lot  to  chase  the  enemy 
out  of  the  country.  For  the  news  had  just  come  from  the 
Neustadt  that  in  case  hostilities  had  to  be  resumed,  then  at  the 
next  period  of  calling  out  the  reserves — /.^.,  next  August  i8 — 
not  only  the  recruits  of  the  last  year,  but  also  a  large  proportion 
of  the  last  but  one  would  have  to  go  at  once  into  active  service. 
This  prospect  delighted  the  young  hero.  Straight  from  the 
academy  into  the  field  1  What  rapture  !  Just  so  a  school-girl 
looks  out  into  the  world — to  her  first  ball.  She  has  learned  to 
dance ;  the  Neustadt  scholar  has  learned  to  shoot  and  fence. 
She  longs  to  display  her  powers  under  a  blazing  chandelier  in 
evening  dress,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  orchestra ;  and  he 
longs  no  less  for  the  smart  uniform  and  the  great  artillery 
dance. 

My  father  was  of  course  pleased  in  the  highest  degree  at  his 
darling's  martial  ardour. 

"  By  easy,  my  brave  boy,"  he  said  in  reply  to  Otto's  sigh  over 
the  threat  of  peace,  patting  him  the  while  on  the  shoulder. 
"  You  have  a  long  life  before  you.  Even  if  the  campaign  were 
to  come  to  an  end  now,  it  must  break  out  again  in  a  year  or 
two." 

I  said  nothing.  Since  my  outbreak  against  Aunt  Mary  I  had, 
on  Frederick's  advice,  formed  and  carried  out  the  resolution 
to  avoid  these  painful  disputes  on  the  subject  of  war  as  far  as 
possible.  It  would  lead  to  nothing  but  bitter  feelings ;  and 
after  having  seen  the  traces  of  the  grim  scourge  with  my  own 
eyes  I  had  so  increased  my  hatred  and  my  contempt  for  war  that 
all  defence  of  it  cut  into  my  soul  like  a  personal  insult.  About 
Frederick  we  were  indeed  at  one — he  was  to  quit  the  service ; 

«9 


290  LAY   DOWN   TOUR   ARMS. 

and  I  was  also  clear  on  this  point,  that  my  son  Rudolf  should 
not  be  put  into  any  military  institution  where  the  whole  of  the 
education  is  directed — and  musty  to  be  consistent,  be  directed 
— to  awaken  in  the  young  a  longing  for  deeds  of  war.  I  once 
asked  my  brother  what  might  be  the  views  which  were  put 
before  the  students  on  the  subject  of  war.  His  replies  came  to 
something  like  what  follows  :  War  was  represented  as  a  neces- 
sary evil  (thus,  at  any  rate,  evil — a  concession  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age)  but  at  the  same  time  as  the  chief  excitant  of  the 
noblest  of  human  virtues — such  as  courage,  the  power  of  self- 
renunciation  and  the  spirit  of  sacrifice,  as  the  bestower  of  the 
greatest  glory,  and  lastly,  as  the  mightiest  factor  in  the  develop- 
ment of  civilisation.  The  mighty  conquerors  and  founders 
of  the  so-called  universal  empires — Alexander,  Caesar,  Napoleon 
— were  quoted  as  the  most  exalted  specimens  of  human  great- 
ness, and  recommended  for  admiration.  The  successes  and 
advantages  of  war  were  set  forth  in  the  liveliest  colours,  while 
they  passed  over  in  complete  silence  the  drawbacks  which 
inevitably  come  in  its  train,  its  barbarising  influence,  its  ruinous 
effects,  the  moral  and  physical  degeneration  it  causes.  Yes, 
assuredly,  for  the  same  system  was  pursued  in  my  case — in 
the  education  of  girls — and  it  was  thus  that  was  kindled 
in  my  childish  spirit  the  admiration  of  warlike  laurels  which 
at  first  inspired  me.  If  I  had  even  myself  been  full  of 
regret  that  the  possibility  of  plucking  these  laurels  did  not 
beckon  me  on,  as  it  did  the  boys,  could  I  now  take  it  ill 
in  a  boy  if  such  a  possibility  filled  him  with  joy  and  with 
impatience  ? 

And  so  I  answered  nothing  to  Otto's  complaint,  but  quietly 
went  on  with  my  reading.  I  was,  as  usual,  reading  a  news- 
paper, and  that  was  filled,  as  usual,  with  news  from  the  theatre 
of  war. 

"  Here  is  an  interesting  correspondence  of  a  physician  who 
accompanied  the  retreat  of  our  troops.  Shall  I  read  it  aloud  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  The  retreat?"  cried  Otto.     **  I  had  rather  not  hear  about 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  agi 

that.  Now,  if  it  were  the  history  of  the  retreat  of  the  foe,  hotly 
pursued " 

"  As  a  general  principle  it  surprises  me,"  remarked  Frederick, 
"that  any  one  should  tell  the  tale  of  a  flight  which  he  has 
accompanied.  That  is  an  episode  of  war  which  the  people 
concerned  in  it  generally  pass  over  in  silence." 

"An  orderly  retreat  is  however  not  a  flight,"  interposed  my 
father.     "  We  had  one  in  '49.     It  was  under  Radetzky " 

I  knew  the  story  and  prevented  its  continuation  by  inter- 
posing. 

'*  This  account  was  sent  to  a  medical  weekly  paper,  and, 
therefore,  was  not  intended  for  military  circles.     Listen." 

And  without  further  request  for  permission  I  read  out  the 
passage. 

"  It  was  about  four  o'clock  when  our  troops  began  the 
retreat.  We  doctors  were  fully  occupied  dressing  the  wounded 
— to  the  number  of  some  hundreds — who  could  bear  removal. 
Suddenly  cavalry  broke  in  on  us,  and  spread  themselves  beside 
and  behind  us,  over  hills  and  fields,  accompanied  by  artillery 
and  baggage- waggons,  towards  Koniggratz.  Many  riders  fell  and 
were  stamped  to  pieces  by  the  horses  that  came  behind.  Waggons 
overturned  and  crushed  the  foot-men,  who  were  pressed  in 
among  them.  We  were  scattered  away  from  the  dressing 
station,  which  disappeared  all  at  once.  They  shouted  to 
us :  "  Save  yourselves ! "  While  this  cry  went  on  we  heard 
the  thunder  of  the  cannon,  and  splinters  of  shell  began 
to  fall  amongst  our  crowd.  And  so  we  were  carried  for- 
ward by  the  press  without  knowing  whither.  I  despaired 
of  my  Ufe.  My  poor  old  mother,  my  dear  espoused  bride, 
farewell  1  On  a  sudden  we  had  water  before  us,  on  the 
right  a  railway  embankment,  on  the  left  a  hollow  way  stopped 
up  with  clumsy  baggage-  and  sick-waggons,  and  behind  us  an 
innumerable  crowd  of  horsemen.  We  began  to  wade  through 
the  water.  Now  came  the  order  to  cut  the  traces  of  the  horses, 
to  sare  the  horses,  and  leave  the  waggons  behind.  The  waggons 
of  the  wounded  also?    Yes,  those  too.    We  00  foot  were 


ftga  LAY    DOWN    YOU&   A&Mft« 

almost  in  despair :  we  were  wading  again  over  our  knees  in 
water,  every  moment  in  fear  of  being  shot  down  or  drowned. 
At  last  we  got  into  a  railway  station,  which  again  was  closely 
barred.  Many  broke  through  the  barrier,  the  rest  leaped  over 
it.  I  with  thousands  of  the  infantry  soldiers  ran  on.  Now  we 
came  to  a  river,  waded  through  it,  then  clambered  over  some 
palisades,  passed  again  through  a  second  river  up  to  our  necks, 
clambered  up  some  rising  ground,  leaped  over  fallen  trees,  and 
arrived  about  one  a.m.  at  a  little  wood,  where  we  sank  down 
from  exhaustion  and  fever.  About  three  o'clock  we  marched 
— that  is,  some  of  us,  another  part  had  to  remain  and  die 
there — we  marched  on  still  dripping  with  wet  and  shuddering 
with  cold.  The  villages  were  all  empty — no  men,  no  provisions, 
not  even  a  drop  of  drinking  water ;  the  air  was  poisoned,  corpses 
covering  the  corn-fields ;  bodies  black  as  coal,  with  the  eyes 
fallen  from  their  sockets " 

"  Enough  !  enough  !  "  cried  the  girls. 

"  The  censorship  should  not  allow  the  publication  of  things 
of  that  sort,"  said  my  father.  "  It  might  destroy  a  man's  love 
for  the  profession  of  a  soldier." 

**  And  especially  the  love  for  war,  which  would  be  a  pity,"  I 
murmured  half  aloud. 

"  As  a  general  rule,"  he  went  on,  *'  about  these  episodes  of 
flight,  the  people  who  have  been  present  at  them  should  observe 
a  decorous  silence,  for  it  is  surely  no  honour  to  have  borne 
a  part  at  a  general  *Sauve  qui  pent'.  The  fellow  who,  by 
shouting  *Save  yourselves,'  gives  the  signal  for  scampering 
should  be  shot  down  on  the  spot.  One  coward  raises  the 
shout,  and  a  thousand  brave  men  are  demoralised  thereby  and 
obliged  to  run  with  him." 

"  Exactly  so,"  replied  Frederick,  "just  as  when  one  brave 
man  shouts  *  Forward '  a  thousand  cowards  are  obliged  to  rush 
on,  and  thus  are  really  animated  by  a  merely  momentary 
courage.  Men  cannot  in  general  be  divided  so  sharply  into 
courageous  and  cowards,  but  every  one  has  his  moments  of 
more  or  less  courage  and  those  of  more  or  less  cowardice. 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS.  ^93 

And  especially  when  one  is  dealing  with  masses  of  men  each 
individual  is  dependent  on  the  condition  of  his  comrades.  We 
are  gregarious  animals,  and  are  under  the  domination  of 
gregarious  feelings.  Where  one  sheep  leaps  over  the  others  leap 
after  him,  where  one  man  rushes  on  shouting  *  Hurrah '  the  others 
shout  and  rush  after  him,  and  where  one  dashes  down  his  musket 
into  the  com  in  order  to  run  away  the  others  run  after  him.  In 
the  one  case  '  our  brave  troops '  get  praised,  in  the  other  their 
proceedings  are  passed  over  in  silence,  yet  they  are  all  the  same 
persons.  Yes,  they  are  the  very  same  men  who,  obeying  in 
each  case  a  common  impulse,  behave  and  feel  at  one  time 
courageously,  at  another  cowardly.  Bravery  and  fear  are  to  be 
regarded,  not  as  fixed  qualities,  but  rather  as  states  of  the 
spirits,  just  like  joy  and  grief.  I,  during  my  first  campaign, 
was  once  involved  in  the  whirl  of  one  of  these  panic  flights. 
In  the  oflficial  account  of  the  Etat-major,  it  is  true,  the  affair 
was  passed  over  in  a  few  words  as  an  *  orderly  retreat  * ;  but  in 
fact  it  was  a  thorough  rout.  They  rushed  on,  madly  raging  in 
indescribable  confusion ;  arms,  knapsacks,  shakos,  and  cloaks 
were  cast  away;  no  word  of  command  could  be  heard;  panting, 
shrieking,  hounded  on  by  despair,  the  disbanded  battalion 
streamed  on,  with  the  enemy  pursuing  and  firing  after  them. 
That  is  one  of  the  many  gruesome  phases  of  war — the  most 
gruesome,  when  the  two  adversaries  figure  no  longer  as  warriors 
but  as  hunter  and  prey.  Thence  arises  in  the  hunter  the  most 
cruel  lust  of  blood ;  in  the  prey  the  most  bitter  fear  of  death. 
The  pursued,  hunted  and  spurred  by  fear,  get  into  a  kind  of 
delirium,  all  the  feelings  and  sentiments  in  which  they  have 
been  educated,  and  which  animate  a  man  as  he  is  rushing  into 
battle,  such  as  love  of  country,  ambition,  thirst  for  noble  deeds 
— all  these  are  lost  to  the  fugitive.  He  is  filled  with  one 
impulse  only,  in  its  greatest  force,  liberated  from  all  restraint, 
and  that  the  most  vehement  which  can  assume  the  mastery  of 
a  liTing  being — the  impulse  of  self-preservation  :  and  this,  as 
danger  comes  nearer,  rises  to  the  highest  paroxysm  of  terror.* 


294  I^*^   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

Frederick's  recovery  progressed  surely.  The  feverish  outei 
world,  too,  seemed  to  come  nearer  to  recovery.  The  word 
"  Peace  "  was  always  being  spoken  more  frequently  and  always 
louder.  The  advance  of  the  Prussians,  who  found  no  longer  any 
opposition  on  the  way,  and  who  were  quietly  drawing  on  towards 
Vienna,  by  way  of  Briinn,  the  keys  of  which  were  delivered  by 
the  burgomaster  to  King  William,  this  advance  was  more  in 
the  nature  of  a  military  promenade  than  an  operation  of  war, 
and  on  July  26  a  regular  suspension  of  arms  at  Nikolsburg  was 
ended  by  the  preliminaries  of  peace. 

My  father  had  a  great  delight  in  the  reception  of  the  news 
of  Admiral  Tegethoff 's  victory  at  Lyssa.  Italian  ships  blown 
into  the  air,  the  Affundatore  destroyed,  what  a  satisfaction  !  1 
could  not  with  perfect  honesty  take  my  share  in  his  joy. 
Speaking  generally,  I  could  not  understand  why,  since  Venice 
had  already  been  surrendered,  these  naval  actions  should  be 
fought  at  all.  So  much,  however,  is  certain,  that  there  broke 
out  over  this  event  the  most  lively  shout  of  joy,  not  from  my 
father  only,  but  from  all  the  Viennese  papers.  The  fame  of  a 
victory  in  war  is  a  thing  which  has  been  swollen  up  to  such  a 
size  through  the  traditions  of  a  thousand  years,  that  even  from 
the  mere  news  of  one  some  share  of  pride  is  spread  over  the 
whole  population.  If  anywhere  a  general  of  your  country  has 
beaten  a  general  of  a  foreign  country,  every  single  subject  of 
the  state  in  question  is  congratulated,  and  since  each  man 
hears  that  all  the  rest  are  rejoicing,  a  thing  which  in  itself  is 
exhilarating,  why,  each  man  ends  by  rejoicing,  in  fact.  This  is 
what  Frederick  called  "  feeling  in  droves  ". 

Another  political  event  of  those  days  was  that  Austria  at 
length  joined  the  Geneva  convention. 

"  Well,  are  you  contented  now  ?  "  asked  my  father  as  he  read 
the  news.  *'  Db  you  agree  that  war,  which  you  are  always 
calling  a  barbarity,  is  always  becoming  more  humane  as  civili- 
sation progresses  ?  I  too  am  indeed  in  favour  of  carrying  on 
war  humanely :  the  wounded  should  have  the  most  careful 
nursing  and  ail  possible  relief.  .  .  .  Even  on  strategic  principles, 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR    ARMS,  295 

which  in  the  long  run  are  surely  the  most  important  in  warlike 
matters,  by  a  proper  treatment  of  the  sick  very  many  may 
become  fit  for  service  again,  and  be  replaced  in  the  ranks  in  a 
shorter  space  of  time.** 

"You  are  right,  papa.  Material  to  be  used  again,  that  is 
the  chief  thing.  But  after  the  things  which  I  have  seen,  no 
Red  Cross  will  be  enough,  even  if  they  had  ten  times  as  much 
of  men  and  means,  to  conjure  away  the  misery  which  one 
battle  brings  with  it ** 

"No,  indeed,  not  to  conjure  it  away,  but  to  mitigate  it. 
What  cannot  be  prevented,  one  must  always  seek  to  mitigate." 

"  Experience  teaches  that  no  sufficient  mitigation  is  possible. 
I  should  therefore  wish  the  maxim  to  be  inverted,  'What 
cannot  be  mitigated  ought  to  be  prevented'.** 

It  began  to  be  a  fixed  idea  with  me,  that  war  must  cease. 
And  every  individual  must  contribute,  all  that  he  is  able,  to 
bring  mankind  nearer  to  this  end,  were  it  but  by  the  thousandth 
part  of  a  line.  I  could  not  get  away  from  the  scenes  which  I  had 
witnessed  in  Bohemia.  Especially  at  night,  when  I  woke  out 
of  a  sound  sleep,  I  would  feel  that  sore  pain  at  my  heart,  and 
felt  at  the  same  time  in  my  conscience  the  admonition,  just  as 
if  some  one  was  giving  me  the  command,  "  Stop  it,  prevent  it, 
do  not  suffer  it".  It  was  not  till  I  was  wide  awake  and  thought 
on  what  I  was  that  the  perception  of  my  impotence  came  over 
me.  What  then  was  I  to  stop  or  to  prevent  ?  A  man  might 
as  well  order  me,  in  face  of  the  sea  swelling  with  winds  and 
waves,  "  Not  to  suffer  it,  dry  it  up  ".  And  my  next  thought 
was,  especially  as  I  listened  to  his  breathing,  one  of  deep 
happiness,  "  I  have  Frederick  again,"  and  I  would  plunge  into 
this  idea  as  vividly  as  I  could,  and  then  I  would  put  my  arm 
round  him  as  he  lay  beside  me,  even  at  the  risk  of  wakening 
him,  and  kiss  his  hps. 

My  son  Rudolf  had  really  reason  to  be  jealous  of  his  step- 
father, and  this  feeling  was  actually  aroused  in  the  boy's  heart, 
especially  since   recent   days.      That  I  had  gone  away  from  • 
Grumitz  without  bidding  him  good-bye,  that  after  my  return 


296  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

my  first  wish  was  not  to  embrace  him^  that  as  a  general  rule 
I  did  not  move  from  my  husband's  side  for  almost  the  whole 
day — all  this  put  together  caused  the  poor  little  fellow  one  fine 
morning  to  throw  himself  weeping  on  my  neck,  and  sob  out : 
"  Mamma,  mamma,  you  do  not  love  me  a  bit ". 

"  What  nonsense  are  you  talking,  child  ?  " 

"Yes — only — only  papa.  I — I  will  not  grow  up  at  all — if 
you  no  longer  like  me." 

"  No  longer  like  you — you  my  treasure  !  '*  I  kissed  and 
caressed  the  weeping  child.  "You,  my  only  son,  my  pride, 
the  joy  of  my  future.  I  love  you  so — so  above— no,  not  above 
everything — but  infinitely." 

After  this  little  scene,  my  love  for  my  boy  came  more  vividly 
into  my  feelings.  In  the  days  just  past,  I  had  in  fact  been 
so  much  engrossed  by  my  fears  for  Frederick,  that  poor  Rudolf 
had  got  thrust  a  little  into  the  background. 

The  plans  which  Frederick  and  I  had  made  up  between 
ourselves  for  the  future  were  as  follows:  After  the  war  was 
over,  to  quit  the  military  service,  and  retire  to  some  small, 
cheap  place,  where  Frederick's  pension  as  colonel,  and  what 
I  could  contribute,  would  suffice  to  keep  up  our  little  house- 
hold. We  rejoiced  over  this  solitary  independent  life  together, 
as  if  we  had  been  a  pair  of  young  lovers.  By  means  of  the 
events  of  our  recent  experience,  we  had  been  taught  thoroughly 
that  we  each  formed  the  whole  world  to  the  other.  Little 
Rudolf,  moreover,  was  not  excluded  from  this  fellowship.  His 
education  was  a  main  business  in  filling  up  the  existence  we 
were  planning.  We  were  not  to  pass  our  days  therein  in 
idleness  and  without  any  aim ;  amongst  other  things  we  had 
marked  out  a  whole  list  of  studies,  which  we  were  to  pursue 
in  common.  In  especial,  there  was  among  the  sciences  a 
branch  of  the  science  of  law,  international^  to  which  Frederick 
intended  to  devote  himself  particularly.  His  aim  was,  quite 
apart  from  all  Utopian  and  sentimental  theory,  to  investigate 
the  practical  side  of  national  peace.  By  means  of  the  perusal 
of  Buckle — to  which  I  had  given  him  the  impulse — by  meani 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARIfl.  297 

of  an  acquaintance  with  the  newest  acquisitions  in  natural 
philosophy,  which  had  been  revealed  to  him  in  the  works  of 
Darwin,  Biichner,  and  others,  the  conviction  had  come  before 
him  that  the  world  was  arriving  at  a  new  phase  of  knowledge, 
and  to  make  this  knowledge  his  own,  as  far  as  possible,  appeared 
to  him  sufficient  to  fill  up  life,  along  with  domestic  pleasures. 

My  father,  who  meanwhile  knew  nothing  of  our  views,  was 
making  quite  other  plans  for  the  future  on  our  behalf.  "  You 
will  now,  Tilling,  be  colonel  at  an  early  age,  and  in  ten  years 
you  will  certainly  be  general.  A  fresh  war  will  no  doubt  break 
out  again  about  that  time,  and  you  may  get  the  command  of 
an  entire  corps  d^armee,  or  who  knows  but  that  you  may  reach 
the  rank  of  commander-in-chief,  and  perhaps  the  great  happi- 
ness may  come  to  you  of  restoring  the  arms  of  Austria  to  their 
full  glory,  which  is  now  for  the  moment  obscured.  When  we 
have  once  adopted  the  needle-gun,  or  perhaps  some  still  more 
effectual  system,  we  shall  soon  have  the  best  in  a  war  with  these 
gentlemen  of  Prussia." 

"Who  knows,"  I  suggested,  "perhaps  our  enmity  with 
Prussia  will  cease.  Perhaps  we  shall  some  day  conclude  an 
alliance  with  them." 

|/My  father  shrugged  his  shoulders.  **  If  women  would  only 
abstain  from  talking  poHtics!"  he  said  disdainfully.  "After 
what  has  taken  place,  we  have  to  chastise  these  insolent  fellows, 
we  have  to  get  the  annexed  (as  they  call  them — I  call  them 
'plundered')  states  back  to  their  severed  allegiance;  that  is 
what  our  honour  demands,  and  the  interest  of  our  position 
amongst  the  Powers  of  Europe.  Friendship— alliance  with 
these  transgressors  ?  Never  I  unless  they  came  and  begged 
humbly  for  it." 

"  In  that  case,"  remarked  Frederick,  **  we  should  perhaps  set 
our  feet  on  their  necks.  Alliances  are  sought  and  concluded 
only  with  those  whom  one  respects,  or  who  can  offer  one 
protection  against  a  common  foe.  In  state-craft  the  ruling 
principle  is  egotism." 

"Oh   yes,"   my  father   replied,   "if  the  ego  means   one's 


298  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  A&U8. 

country,  everything  else  is  certainly  to  be  subordinated  to  it, 
and  everything  is  certainly  allowable  and  commanded  which 
seems  serviceable  to  its  interests.'" 

"  It  is,  however,  to  be  wished,"  answered  Frederick,  **  that  in 
the  behaviour  of  communities  the  same  elevated  civilisation 
should  be  reached,  as  has  banished  from  the  behaviour  of 
individuals  the  rough  self-worship,  resting  on  fist-law,  and  that 
the  view  should  prevail  more  and  more  that  one's  own  interests 
are  really  most  effectually  furthered  by  avoiding  damage  to 
those  of  foreigners,  or  rather  in  union  with  the  latter." 

"  Eh  ?  '*  asked  my  father,  with  his  hand  to  his  ear. 

But  Frederick  could  not,  of  course,  repeat  this  long  sentence 
and  illustrate  it,  and  so  the  discussion  ended. 

"  I  shall  be  at  Grumitz  to-morrow  at  one  o'clock. — Conrad." 
Everybody  can  imagine  the  delight  which  this  telegram 
caused  Lilly.  No  other  arrival  is  hailed  with  such  joy  and 
rapture  as  that  of  one  returning  from  the  wars.  It  is  true  that 
in  this  case  there  was  not  also  what  is  the  favourite  subject  of 
the  common  ballads  and  engravings,  viz.y  "The  conqueror's 
return  " ;  but  the  human  feelings  of  the  loving  sweetheart  would 
not  be  interfered  with  by  patriotic  considerations,  and  if  Conrad 
had  "taken  "  the  city  of  Berlin,  I  believe  this  would  not  have 
availed  to  heighten  the  warmth  of  Lilly's  reception  of  him. 

To  him,  of  course,  it  would  have  been  better  if  he  had  come 
home  along  with  troops  who  had  been  victorious,  if  he  had 
contributed  to  conquer  the  province  of  Silesia  for  his  emperor. 
Meantime,  the  very  fact  of  having  fought  is  in  itself  an  honour 
for  a  soldier,  even  if  he  is  one  of  the  beaten,  nay,  one  of  the 
fallen :  the  latter  is  even  more  especially  glorious.  Thus  Otto 
told  us  that  in  the  academy  at  Wiener-Neustadt  the  names  of 
all  the  students  were  inscribed  on  a  table  of  honour,  to  whom 
the  advantage  had  befallen  of  having  been  left  dead  on  the 
battlefield,  Tui  a  Vennemi^  they  say  in  France;  and  in  that 
country,  as  everywhere  else,  it  is  a  much-prized  ancestral 
distinction.     The  more  progenitors  one  can  point  out  in  one's 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARM 8.  299 

family  who  have  lost  their  lives  in  battles,  whether  won  or  lost, 
the  prouder  is  the  descendant  of  it,  the  more  value  may  he  set 
on  his  name,  the  less  value  on  his  life.  In  order  to  show 
oneself  worthy  of  one's  slain  ancestors,  one  must  have  a  lively 
joy  of  one's  own  in  slaying,  active  and  passive.  Well,  so  much 
the  better  is  it,  that,  as  long  as  war  exists,  there  should  also  be 
found  people  who  see  therein  elevation  and  inspiration,  nay, 
even  pleasure.  The  number,  however,  of  these  people  is  daily 
becoming  less,  while  the  number  of  the  soldiers  becomes  daily 
greater.  Whither  must  this  finally  lead?  To  its  becoming 
intolerable.     And  whither  will  this  lead? 

Conrad  did  not  think  so  deeply.  His  way  of  looking  at  it  was 
excellently  expressed  by  the  well-known  song  of  the  lieutenant 
in  the  "  Dame  Blanche*' :  "  Oh,  what  delight  is  a  soldier's  life,  what 
delight ! "  To  hear  him  speak,  one  might  have  actually  envied 
him  the  expedition  of  which  he  had  just  formed  part.  My 
brother  Otto  was  really  filled  with  this  envy.  This  warrior 
returned  from  his  baptism  of  blood  and  fire,  who  even  before 
looked  so  knightly  in  his  hussar  uniform,  and  who  was  now 
also  adorned  with  an  honourable  scar  over  his  chin,  received 
in  the  shower  of  bullets,  who  had  perhaps  given  their  quietus 
to  so  many  of  the  foe,  he  seemed  to  him  now  surrounded  by  a 
nimbus  of  glory. 

"  It  was  not  a  successful  campaign,  that  I  must  admit,"  said 
Conrad,  "  but  I  have  brought  back  from  it  one  or  two  gran(^ 
reminiscences." 

"  Tell  us,  tell  us,"  Lilly  and  Otto  besought  him. 

**  Well,  I  cannot  give  you  many  details ;  the  whole  thing  lies 
behind  me  like  a  dream,  the  powder  gets  into  one's  head  in 
such  a  strange  way.  The  intoxication,  in  fact,  or  the  fever, 
the  martial  fire,  in  a  word,  begins  from  the  moment  of  march- 
ing. The  parting  from  one's  love  indeed  comes  hard  on  one  ; 
it  was  the  one  hour  in  which  my  breast  was  full  of  tender  pain, 
but  when  one  is  once  off  with  one's  comrades ;  when  the  thought 
is,  now  I  am  going  on  the  highest  duty  which  life  can  lay  on  a 
man,  rft .,  to  defend  my  beloved  country ;   when,   then,   th< 


300  LAY   DOWN   TOUR  ARMS. 

musicians  struck  up  Radetzh^s  Marchy  and  the  silken  folds  of 
the  flags  rustled  in  the  wind,  I  must  confess,  Lilly,  that  at  that 
moment  I  would  not  have  turned  back — no,  not  into  the  arms 
of  my  love.  Then  I  felt  that  I  should  never  be  worthy  of  that 
love  except  by  doing  my  duty  out  there  by  the  side  of  my 
brethren.  That  we  were  marching  to  victory  we  did  not 
doubt.  What  did  we  know  about  the  horrible  needle  bullets  ? 
It  was  they  alone  that  were  the  cause  of  our  defeat.  I  tell  you 
they  fell  on  our  ranks  like  hail  And  we  had  also  bad  leaders. 
Benedek,  you  will  see,  will  yet  be  brought  before  a  court- 
rtiartial.  We  should  have  attacked.  If  I  should  ever  become 
a  general  my  tactics  would  be  to  advance,  always  advance, 
play  a  forward  game,  invade  the  enem/s  country.  That 
surely  is  only  another  kind,  and  the  most  weighty  one  too,  of 
defence : — 

If  it  must  be  so,  go  forward — forward  go. 
The  way  is  found  by  never  looking  back, 

as  the  poet  says.  However,  that  is  nothing  to  the  point ;  the 
emperor  has  not  put  me  in  command,  and  so  I  am  not  respon- 
sible for  the  tactical  blunders  :  the  generals  must  see  how  they 
are  to  settle  with  their  military  superiors  and  with  their  own 
consciences;  we,  officers  and  soldiers,  did  our  duty — we 
had  to  fight,  and  fight  we  did.  And  that  is  a  grand  sensation 
in  itself.  The  very  expectation,  the  very  excitement  one  feels 
when  one  rushes  on  to  the  foe  and  when  the  word  goes  round 
*Now  it  is  afoot,'  this  consciousness  that  in  that  moment  a 
portion  of  the  world's  history  is  being  enacted,  and  then  the 
pride,  the  joy  in  one's  own  courage,  Death  right  and  left,  great 
and  mysterious,  and  yet  one  bids  him  a  manly  defiance " 

"  Just  like  poor  Godfrey  Tessow,"  murmured  Frederick  to 
himself.     "  Well,  of  course,  it  is  the  same  school." 

Conrad  went  on  eagerly. 

"  One's  heart  beats  higher,  one's  pulse  flutters,  there  awakes 
—and  that  is  the  peculiar  rapture  of  it — there  wakes  the  joy  of 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  3OI 

battle  The  rage,  the  hate  of  the  foe  blazes  up,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  burning  love  for  one's  menaced  country, 
while  the  onward  rush,  the  hewing  down  at  them  becomes  a 
delight.  One  feels  transported  into  another  world  from  that 
in  which  one  grew  up,  a  world  in  which  all  the  ordinary  feelings 
and  ways  of  looking  at  things  are  changed  into  their  opposites. 
Life  is  changed  into  plunder ;  killing  becomes  a  duty.  Only, 
however,  heroism,  the  most  magnificent  self-sacrifice,  are  left 
surviving — all  other  conceptions  have  perished  in  the  tumult. 
Then  add  the  powder-smoke,  the  battle-cries.  I  tell  you  it  is 
a  state  of  things  to  which  no  parallel  is  to  be  found  elsewhere. 
At  the  most,  perhaps,  the  same  fire  may  glow  through  one  in 
the  lion  or  tiger  hunt,  when  one  stands  in  the  face  of  the 

maddened  wild  beast,  and " 

'*  Yes,"  broke  in  Frederick,  "  the  fight  against  an  enemy 
who  threatens  you  with  death,  the  longing,  proud  desire  of 
conquering  him  fills  you  with  peculiar  enjoyment — pray 
forgive  me  the  word,  Aunt  Mary — as  indeed  everything  which 
sustains  or  expands  life  is  guaranteed  to  us  by  Nature  through 
the  reward  of  joy.  As  long  as  man  was  in  peril  from  savage 
assailants,  on  two  legs  or  four,  and  could  only  protect  his  life 
by  killing  the  latter,  battle  became  one  of  his  delights.  If  in 
the  midst  of  a  fight  the  same  pleasure  creeps  through  our  veins 
still  though  we  are  civilised  men,  it  is  only  a  reminiscence  of 
heredity.  And  at  the  present  time,  when  there  are  in  Europe 
no  more  savages  or  beasts  of  prey,  in  order  that  this  delight 
may  not  vanish  from  us  entirely,  we  have  invented  artificial 
assailants  for  ourselves.  This  is  what  goes  on.  Attention ! 
You  wear  blue  coats,  and  those  men  there  red  coats.  As  soon 
as  we  clap  hands  three  times  the  red  coats  will  be  turned  for  you 
into  tigers,  and  the  blue  coats  will  become  wild  beasts  to  them. 
So  now — one,  two,  three ;  blow  the  charge,  beat  the  attack ; 
and  now  you  can  set  off,  and  devour  each  other;  and  after 
io,ooo--or  always  in  proportion  to  the  rise  in  the  magnitude  of 
armies — 100,000  artificial  tigers  have  devoured  each  other  with 
mutual  delight  in  battle  at  Xdorf,  then  you  have  the  battle  of 


302  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

Xdorf,  which  is  to  become  historical ;  and  then  the  men  who 
clap  hands  assemble  round  a  green  congress  table  in  Xstadt, 
rule  lines  for  altered  frontiers  on  the  map,  haggle  over  the 
proportion  of  contributions,  sign  a  paper  which  figures  in  the 
historical  annals  as  the  Peace  of  Xstadt,  clap  their  hands  three 
times  once  more,  and  say  to  the  redcoats  and  the  bluecoats 
surviving  *  Embrace  each  other,  men  and  brethren '  I " 


CHAPTER  XTf . 

The  Prussians  advance  on  Vienna,— Prussian  officers  quartered 
at  Grumitz. — My  brother  Ottds  warlike  ardour. — He  gets 
into  trouble, — A  grand  dinner  to  the  self-invited  guests. 
Sudden  engagement  of  my  sister  Rosa  to  Prince  Henry  von 
Reuss. — General  felicity  and  enjoyment, — Departure  of  the 
Prussians. — Outbreak  of  cholera  at  Grumitz. — The  chateau 
is  infected. — First  some  of  the  servants^  then  my  sisters,  then 
Otto  die  of  cholera,  and  lastly  my  father  dies  from  heart 
disease,  cursing  war  with  his  last  breath. — Conrad s  suicide. 

There  were  Prussians  quartered  everywhere  in  the  neignoour- 
hood,  and  now  Grumitz  had  to  come  into  the  circle. 

Though  the  suspension  of  hostilities  was  already  in  force, 
and  peace  was  almost  certain,  yet  general  fear  and  mistrust 
reigned  throughout  the  people.  The  idea  that  these  spike- 
helmeted  tigers  would  tear  them  to  pieces  if  they  could  was 
not  easily  eradicated  out  of  the  people.  The  three  claps  of  the 
hand  at  Nicolsburg  had  not  yet  availed  to  undo  the  effect  of 
the  three  claps  of  the  declaration  of  war,  and  to  make  the 
country-folk  look  on  the  Prussians  again  in  the  light  of  brothers. 
The  very  name  of  the  opposing  nation  gathers  round  it  in  war 
time  a  whole  host  of  hateful  implied  meanings.  It  is  not 
merely  the  distinctive  name  of  a  nation  hostile  for  the  moment, 
but  it  becomes  the  synonym  for  "  enemy,"  and  comprises  in 
itself  all  the  repugnance  which  that  word  expresses. 

And  so  it  happened  that  the  folks  in  the  neighbourhood 
trembled,  as  before  wolves  broken  loose,  if  a  Prussian  quarter 

(303) 


304  LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS 

master  came  there  to  procure  lodging  for  his  troops.  With 
some  besides  fear  hatred  also  was  expressed,  and  these  thought 
they  were  discharging  a  patriotic  duty  if  they  did  anything  to 
injure  a  Prussian,  if  they  sent  a  rifle  bullet  out  of  some  place 
of  concealment  after  "  the  foe ".  This  had  often  taken  place, 
and  if  the  guilty  party  was  caught  he  was  executed  without 
much  circumstance.  These  examples  had  the  effect  of  making 
the  people  suppress  their  hatred  and  receive  without  opposition 
the  soldiers  quartered  on  them.  Then  they  found  to  their  no 
small  amazement  that  "  the  enemy  "  really  consisted  of  nothing 
but  good-humoured,  friendly  fellows,  who  paid  their  way 
honestly. 

One  morning,  it  was  early  in  August,  I  was  sitting  in  the 
bow-window  of  the  library  and  looking  out  through  the  open 
window.  From  this  point  was  a  long  view  over  the  surrounding 
country.  I  thought  I  saw  from  a  distance  a  troop  of  cavalry 
moving  along  the  high  road  in  our  direction. 

"Prussians  coming  for  quarters,"  was  my  first  thought.  I 
adjusted  a  telescope  which  stood  in  the  bow,  and  looked 
towards  the  point  in  question.  Right ;  it  was  a  troop  of  about 
ten  riders  with  waving  black  and  white  little  flags  on  the  points 
of  their  lances.  And  among  them  a  man  on  foot,  in  hunting 
costume.  Why  was  he  walking  in  this  way  between  the  horses  ? 
A  prisoner?  The  glass  was  not  powerful  enough.  I  could 
not  make  out  whether  the  man  I  took  for  a  prisoner  might  not 
be  one  of  our  own  foresters. 

Still  it  was  right  to  warn  the  inhabitants  of  the  chateau  of 
the  fate  impending  over  them.  I  hastily  left  the  library  to 
look  for  papa  and  Aunt  Mary.  I  found  both  in  the  drawing- 
room.  "The  Prussians  are  coming,  the  Prussians  are  coming," 
I  announced  to  them  breathlessly.  One  is  always  glad  to  be 
able  to  be  the  first  to  communicate  important  tidings. 

"Devil  take  them,"  was  my  father's  rather  inhospitable 
exclamation,  while  Aunt  Mary  hit  on  the  right  thing  to  do, 
as  she  said :  "  I  will  immediately  give  Frau  Walter  her  orders 
for  the  necessary  preparations". 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  305 

"  And  where  is  Otto  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Some  one  roust  acquaint 
him,  and  warn  him  not  to  let  his  hatred  of  the  Prussians  peep 
out  anyhow,  and  not  to  be  uncivil  to  the  guests." 

"  Otto  is  not  at  home,"  replied  my  father.  *  *  He  went  out  early 
to-day  after  the  partridges.  You  should  have  seen  him,  how 
well  his  hunting-dress  sat  on  him.  He  grows  a  fine  fellow. 
My  delight  is  in  him." 

Meanwhile  the  house  filled  with  noise.  Hasty  steps  were 
heard,  and  excited  voices. 

"They  are  come  already — those  windbags,"  muttered  my 
father. 

The  door  was  dashed  open,  and  Franz,  the  valet  de  chambre^ 
rushed  in. 

"The  Prussians — the  Prussians,"  he  shouted,  in  the  same 
tone  as  one  calls  "  Fire,  fire  !  " 

"  Well,  they  won't  eat  us,"  growled  my  father. 

"But  they  are  bringing  a  man  with  them — a  man  from 
Grumitz,"  the  man  went  on  in  a  trembling  voice.  "  I  do  not 
know  who  it  is.  He  has  fired  on  them ;  and  who  would  not 
like  to  fire  on  such  a  scum  ?     But  it  is  all  over  with  him." 

Now  one  heard  the  tramp  of  horses  and  tumult  of  voices 
together.  We  went  down  to  the  ground  floor  and  looked 
through  the  windows  which  opened  out  into  the  courtyard.  At 
that  moment  the  Uhlans  came  riding  in,  and  in  their  midst, 
with  pale,  defiant  face.  Otto,  my  brother. 

My  father  uttered  a  shriek  and  hurried  down  the  steps.  My 
heart  stood  still.  The  scene  before  us  was  horrible.  If  Otto 
had  really  fired  at  the  Prussian  soldiers,  which  seemed  very 
like  him I  dared  not  think  of  the  conclusion. 

I  had  not  the  courage  to  go  after  my  father.  Consolation 
and  assistance  in  all  sorrows  I  always  sought  fi-om  Frederick 
only.  So  I  collected  myself  in  order  to  betake  myself  to 
Frederick's  room.  But  before  I  got  there,  my  father  came 
back  again  and  Otto  after  him.  By  their  bearing  I  saw  that 
the  danger  was  over.  The  hearing  of  the  matter  had  given 
the  following  result :  The  shot  had  been  discharged  accident- 

10 


306  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

ally.  When  the  Uhlans  came  riding  on,  Otto  wanted  to  sec 
them  close,  ran  across  the  field,  stumbled,  fell  down  into  a 
ditch,  and  in  doing  so  discharged  his  gun.  At  the  first 
moment  the  statement  of  the  young  sportsman  was  doubted 
by  the  men.  They  took  him  in  their  midst  and  brought  him 
to  the  chateau  as  their  prisoner.  But  when  it  came  out  that 
the  young  gentleman  was  the  son  of  General  Althaus,  and 
was  himself  a  military  student,  they  accepted  his  explanation. 

"  The  son  of  a  soldier,  and  himself  a  future  soldier,  might  well 
fire  on  hostile  soldiers  in  honourable  fight,  but  not  in  time  of 
truce,  and  not  like  an  assassin."  On  this  speech  of  my  father's 
the  Prussian  subaltern  had  set  the  young  man  free. 

"  And  are  you  really  innocent  ?  "  I  asked  Otto.  "  For  from 
your  hatred  of  the  Prussians  it  would  not  surprise  me  if '* 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  shall,  I  trust,  have  plenty  of  opportunities  in  the  course 
of  my  life  to  fire  at  a  few  of  them ;  but  not  from  behind,  not 
without  exposing  my  heart,  too,  to  their  bullets." 

"  Bravo,  my  boy  !  '*  cried  my  father,  delighted  by  these 
words. 

I  could  not  share  his  delight.  All  these  phrases,  in  which 
life^  whether  one's  own  or  another's,  is  tossed  about  so  contemp- 
tuously and  so  boastfully,  have  a  repellent  tone  for  me.  But  I 
was  glad  at  heart  that  the  matter  had  passed  over  thus.  How 
horrible  would  it  have  been  for  my  poor  father  if  these  men 
had  shot  down  the  presumed  malefactor  without  more  ado  ! 
In  that  case  the  unhappy  war  by  which  our  house  had  hitherto 
been  spared  would  have  yet  plunged  it  into  misery. 

The  detachment  in  question  had  come  in  the  regular  way  to 
take  up  quarters.  Schloss  Grumitz  had  been  selected  as  the 
habitation  of  two  colonels  and  six  officers  of  the  Prussian  army. 
The  men  were  to  be  lodged  in  the  village.  Two  men  were  to 
be  set  as  sentinels  in  the  courtyard  of  the  chateau. 

An  hour  or  two  after  the  settlement  of  the  quarters  the 
involuntary  and  self-invited  guests  made  their  entry  into  our 
house.     We  had  been  prepared  for  the  event  for  several  days, 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  307 

And  Frau  Walter  had  seen  that  all  the  guest  chambers  and 
beds  were  in  readiness.  The  cook  also  had  laid  in  plenty  of 
provisions,  and  the  cellar  held  a  sufficient  number  of  full 
barrels  and  old  bottles.  The  Prussian  gentlemen  should  not 
find  any  scarcity  in  our  house. 

When  the  company  in  the  chateau  mustered  in  the  drawing- 
room  that  day  at  the  sound  of  the  dinner-bell  the  room 
presented  a  brilliant  and  lively  picture.  The  gentlemen,  all 
excepting  Minister  "  To-be-sure,"  who  was  our  guest  for  the 
moment,  all  in  uniform,  the  ladies  in  full  dress.  For  the  first 
time  for  a  long  while  we  were  all  in  our  glory — Lori  especially — 
the  lively  Lori — who  had  arrived  that  same  day  from  Vienna, 
had,  on  the  news  that  foreign  officers  were  to  be  present, 
unpacked  her  fine  dresses,  and  adorned  herself  with  fresh  roses. 
lyThe  object,  no  doubt,  was  to  turn  the  head  of  one  or  other  of 
the  members  of  the  enemy's  army.  Well,  as  far  as  I  was 
concerned  she  might  have  conquered  the  whole  Prussian 
battalion,  so  she  left  Frederick  undazzled  Lilly,  the  happy 
fiancee^  wore  a  light  blue  robe.  Rosa,  who  also  seemed  very 
happy  to  have  the  chance  once  more  of  showing  herself  off  to 
young  cavaliers,  was  dressed  in  pink  muslin ;  and  I,  feeling 
that  war  time,  even  if  one  has  no  person  to  mourn,  is  always  a 
time  of  mourning,  put  on  a  black  dress. 

I  recollect  still  the  singular  impression  which  it  made  on 
me  when  I  entered  the  drawing-room,  in  which  the  rest 
were  already  assembled.  Glitter,  cheerfulness,  distinguished 
elegance,  the  well-dressed  ladies,  the  smart  uniforms — what  a 
contrast  to  the  scenes  of  woe,  filth,  and  terror  that  I  had  seen 
so  short  a  time  since.  And  it  is  these  same  glittering,  cheerful, 
elegant  personages  who  of  their  own  accord  set  this  woe  in 
motion,  who  refuse  to  do  anything  to  abolish  it,  who  on  the 
contrary  glorify  it,  and  by  means  of  their  gold  lace  and  stars 
testify  the  pride  which  they  find  in  being  the  agents  and  props 
of  this  system  of  woe  1 

My  entrance  broke  up  the  conversation  which  was  being 


308  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

carried  on  in  the  different  groups,  since  all  our  Prussian  guestt 
had  to  be  introduced  to  me,  most  of  them  distinguished- 
sounding  names  ending  in  "  ow  "  and  in  "  witz,"  many  "  vons," 
and  even  a  prince — one  Henry — I  don't  know  of  what  number 
— of  the  house  of  Reuss. 

Such  then  were  our  enemies  !  perfect  gentlemen  with  the 
most  exquisite  manners  in  society.  Well,  certainly  one  knows 
as  much  as  this :  that  if  war  is  to  be  carried  on  at  the  present 
day  with  a  neighbouring  nation  one  has  not  to  do  with  Huns 
and  Vandals  ;  but  for  all  that  it  would  be  much  more  natural 
to  think  of  the  enemy  as  a  horde  of  savages,  and  it  Requires 
some  effort  to  look  upon  them  as  honourable  and  civilised 
citizens.  "  God,  who  drivest  back  by  Thy  mighty  protection 
the  adversaries  of  those  who  trust  in  Thee,  hear  us  graciously 
as  we  pray  for  Thy  mercy,  so  that  the  rage  of  the  enemy  having 
been  suppressed  we  may  praise  Thee  to  all  eternity."  This 
was  the  prayer  daily  offered  by  the  priest  at  Grumitz.  What 
conception  must  there  have  been  formed  by  the  common  people 
of  this  "  raging  enemy  "  ?  Certainly  not  anything  like  these 
courteous  noblemen  who  were  now  giving  their  arms  to  the 
ladies  present  to  take  them  to  dinner.  .  .  .  Besides  this,  God 
this  time  had  listened  to  the  prayer  of  the  other  side  and  had 
suppressed  our  rage — the  foaming,  murderous  foe  who  through 
the  might  of  the  Divine  protection  (which,  to  be  sure,  we  called 
the  needle-gun)  had  been  driven  back  were  ourselves.  Oh  I 
what  a  pious  concatenation  of  nonsense  !  I  was  thinking  some- 
thing to  this  effect  as  we  were  sitting  down  in  a  brilliant  row  at  the 
table,  adorned  with  flowers  and  dishes  of  fruit  The  silver, 
too,  had  been  brought  out  of  its  hiding-place  at  the  order  of 
the  master  of  the  house.  I  was  seated  between  a  stately 
colonel,  ending  in  "  ow,"  and  a  tall  lieutenant  in  "  itz  " ;  Lilly, 
of  course,  by  her  lover's  side  Rosa  had  been  taken  in  to 
dinner  by  Prince  Henry,  and  the  naughty  Lori  had  once  again 
succeeded  in  getting  my  Frederick  as  her  next-door  neighbour. 
But  what  of  that?  I  was  not  going  to  be  jealous.  He  was 
assuredly  my  Frederick,  my  very  own. 


LAY   XK/VN   YOUR   ARMS.  309 

The  conyenation  was  very  abundant  and  very  lively.  **  The 
Prussians"  evidently  felt  highly  pleased,  after  the  toils  and 
privations  they  had  gone  through,  to  be  sitting  down  again  at  a 
weU-fiimished  table  and  in  good  company ;  and  the  consciousness 
that  the  campaign  which  was  ended  had  been  a  victorious  one 
must  certainly  have  contributed  to  raise  their  spirits.  But  even 
we,  the  vanquished,  did  not  allow  anything  of  grudge  or 
humiliation  to  appear,  and  did  all  we  could  k>  play  the  part  of 
the  most  amiable  of  hosts.  To  my  father  it  must  have  cost 
some  self-control,  as  I  could  judge  from  knowing  his  sentiments, 
but  he  played  his  part  throughout  with  exemplary  courtesy. 
The  one  who  was  most  dejected  was  Ottp.  It  was  visibly 
against  the  grain  for  him,  with  the  hatred  which  he  had  been 
cherishing  against  the  Prussians  in  these  late  days,  with  his 
eagerness  to  chase  them  out  of  the  country,  to  have  now  to 
reach  the  pepper  and  salt  for  this  same  foe  in  the  most  polite 
manner,  instead  of  being  allowed  to  pierce  him  with  a  bayonet. 
The  topic  of  the  war  was  carefully  avoided  in  the  conversation ; 
the  foreigners  were  treated  by  us  as  if  they  had  been  pleasure- 
travellers  who  happened  to  be  passing  through  our  neighbour- 
hood, and  they  themselves  with  still  greater  caution  avoided 
even  hinting  at  the  real  state  of  things — viz.,  that  they  were 
stationed  here  as  our  conquerors.  My  young  lieutenant  even 
tried,  quite  in  earnest,  to  pay  his  court  to  me.  He  swore,  by 
his  honour  and  credit,  that  there  was  no  such  pleasant  place 
in  the  world  as  Austria,  and  that  there  (shooting  sidewards 
a  needle-gun  glance)  the  most  charming  women  in  the  world 
were  to  be  found.  I  do  not  deny  that  I  too  coquetted  a  little 
with  the  smart  son  of  Mars,  but  that  was  to  show  Lori  Griesbach 
and  her  neighbour  that  in  a  certain  given  case  I  was  capable  ot 
having  my  revenge ;  the  folks  opposite,  however,  remained  quite 
as  undisturbed  as  I  myself  was  really  at  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 
It  would  have  been  more  reasonable  and  more  to  the  purpose, 
however,  if  my  dashing  lieutenant  had  directed  his  killing 
glances  to  the  fair  Lorl  Conrad  and  Lilly  in  their  character 
of  engaged  persons  (and  such  folks  should  really  be  always 


3IO  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

t 

put  behind  a  grating)  exchanged  loving  glances  quite  openly, 
and  whispered  and  clanked  their  glasses  together  by  themselves, 
and  played  all  sorts  of  other  drawing-room  turtle-dove  tricks. 
And  as  it  seemed  to  me  a  third  flirtation  began  on  the  spot  to 
develop  itself.  For  the  German  prince — Henry  the  So  and  So 
— kept  conversing  in  the  most  pressing  way  with  my  sister 
Rosa,  and  as  it  went  on  his  countenance  became  a  picture  of 
the  moat  unconcealed  admiration. 

When  we  rose  from  table,  we  went  back  into  the  drawing- 
room,  in  which  the  chandelier,  which  had  now  been  lighted, 
diffused  a  festive  glow. 

The  door  on  to  the  terrace  was  open.  Outside  was  the  warm 
summer  night,  flooded  by  the  gentle  light  of  the  moon.  The 
evening  star  shed  its  rays  over  the  grassy  expanse  of  the  park, 
fragrant  with  hay,  and  mirrored  itself  in  glittering  silver  on  the 
lake  which  spread  out  in  the  background.  .  .  .  Could  that 
really  be  the  same  moon  which  a  short  time  ago  had  shown  me 
the  heap  of  corpses  against  the  church  wall  surrounded  by  the 
shrieking  birds  of  prey  ?  And  were  these  people  inside — ^just 
then  a  Prussian  lieutenant  opened  the  piano  to  play  one  of 
Mendelssohn's  "  Lieder  ohne  Worte  " — could  they  be  the  same 
as  were  laying  about  them  with  their  sabres  a  short  time  since 
to  cleave  men's  skulls  ? 

After  a  time  Prince  Henry  and  Rosa  came  out  too.  They 
did  not  see  me  in  my  dark  corner,  and  passed  by  me.  They 
were  now  standing,  leaning  on  the  balustrade,  near,  very  near 
each  other.  I  even  believe  that  the  young  Prussian — ^the  foe — 
was  holding  my  sister's  hand  in  his.  They  were  speaking  low, 
but  still  some  of  the  prince's  words  reached  me.  "  Charming 
girl  .  .  .  sudden,  conquering  passion  .  .  •  longing  for 
domestic  happiness  ...  the  die  is  cast  ...  for  mercy's 
sake  do  not  say  *  No '.  Do  I  then  inspire  yon  with  dis- 
gust?" Rosa  shook  her  head.  Then  he  raised  her  hand  to 
his  lips  and  tried  to  put  his  arm  round  her  waist  She,  like  a 
well-brought-up  girl,  disengaged  herself  at  once. 

Ah  I  I  would  almost  have  preferred  that  the  soft  moonlight 


LAY   DOWN   TOUR   ARMS.  3II 

had  then  and  there  shone  on  the  kiss  of  love.  .  .  .  After 
all  the  pictures  of  hate  and  bitter  woe  which  I  had  been 
obliged  to  witness  a  short  time  ago,  a  picture  of  love  and  sweet 
pleasure  would  have  seemed  to  me  like  some  compensation. 

"  Oh  1  is  it  you,  Martha  ?  " 

Rosa  had  now  become  aware  of  me,  and  was  at  first  very 
much  shocked  that  any  one  should  have  been  listening  at  this 
scene,  but  then  pacified  that  it  was  only  me. 

The  prince,  however,  was  in  the  highest  degree  discomposed 
and  perplexed.     He  stepped  towards  me. 

"  I  have  just  made  an  offer  of  my  hand  to  your  sister, 
gracious  madam.  Kindly  say  a  word  in  my  favour.  My 
action  may  perhaps  seem  to  both  of  you  somewhat  sudden 
and  presumptuous.  At  another  time  I  should  myself  perhaps 
have  proceeded  more  cautiously  and  more  modestly  ;  but  in 
these  last  few  weeks  I  have  been  accustoming  myself  to  advance 
quickly  and  boldly — no  hesitation  or  trembling  was  allowed 
then — and  the  practice  which  I  formed  in  war  I  have  now 
involuntarily  again  exercised  in  love.  Pray  forgive  me,  and 
be  favourable  to  me.  You  are  silent,  countess  ?  Do  you 
refuse  me  your  hand  ?  " 

"  My  sister,"  said  I,  coming  to  Rosa's  assistance,  who  was 
standing  there  in  deep  emotion  with  her  head  turned  aside, 
"cannot  surely  be  expected  to  decide  her  fate  so  quickly. 
Who  knows  whether  our  father  will  give  his  consent  to  a 
marriage  with  *  an  enemy ' ;  who  knows  again  whether  Rosa 
will  return  an  inclination  so  suddenly  kindled  ?  " 

"  1  know,"  she  replied,  and  stretched  out  both  her  hands  to 
the  young  man  ;  and  he  pressed  her  warmly  to  his  heart. 

"  Oh,  you  silly  children,"  I  said,  and  drew  back  a  few  paces 
to  the  drawing-room  door,  to  watch  that — ^at  least  at  that 
moment — no  one  should  come  out. 

On  the  following  day  the  betrothal  was  celebrated.  My 
father  offered  no  opposition.  I  should  have  thought  that  his 
hatred  of  the  Prussians  would  have  made  it  impossible  for  him 


3ia  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

to  receive  into  his  family  a  hostile  warrior  and  a  victor ;  but 
whether  it  was  that  he  separated  altogether  the  individual 
question  from  the  national  (a  common  method  of  action — for  one 
often  hears  people  protest:  ''I  hate  them  as  a  nation,  not  as 
individuals,"  though  there  is  no  sense  in  it,  no  more  sense  than 
if  one  were  to  say:  ''I  hate  wine  as  a  drink,  but  I  swallow  each 
drop  with  pleasure" ;  still  a  phrase  need  not  be  rational  in  order 
to  be  popular,  quite  the  contrary),  or  whether  it  was  that 
ambition  got  the  upper  hand  and  an  alliance  with  a  princely 
house  flattered  him,  or,  finally,  that  the  sudden  love  of  the 
young  folks  so  romantically  expressed  touched  him — in  short, 
he  said  yes,  and  with  seeming  heartiness.  Aunt  Mary  was  less 
disposed  to  agree.  "  Impossible  I  '*  was  her  first  exclamation 
"  The  prince  is  surely  of  the  Lutheran  sect"  But  in  the  end 
she  comforted  herself  with  the  consideration  that  Rosa  would 
probably  convert  her  husband.  The  deepest  resentment  it 
awoke  was  in  Otto's  heart.  "  How  would  you  like  it,"  he  said, 
"  supposing  the  war  was  to  break  out  again,  that  I  should  chase 
my  brother-in-law  out  of  the  country  ?  "  But  to  him  also  the 
famous  theory  of  the  difference  between  nation  and  individual 
was  explained,  and  to  my  astonishment — for  I  could  never 
understand  it — he  understood  it 

How  quickly  and  easily  does  one  in  happy  circumstances 
forget  the  misery  one  has  gone  through.  Two  pairs  of  lovers, 
or,  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  three — for  Frederick  and  I,  the 
married  ones,  were  not  much  less  in  love  with  each  other  than 
the  betrothed — well,  so  many  pairs  of  lovers  in  the  little  company 
gave  an  air  of  felicity  to  everything.  For  the  next  day  or  two 
Schloss  Grumitz  was  an  abode  of  cheerfulness  and  worldly  enjoy- 
ment I,  too,  gradually  felt  the  pictures  of  terror  of  the  past  weeks 
fading  out  of  my  remembrance.  It  was  not  without  reproaches 
of  conscience  that  I  became  aware  how  my  compassion,  which 
had  been  so  burning  a  short  time  since,  was  at  some  moments 
quite  gone.  It  is  true  that  sounds  of  mourning  still  came 
pealing  from  the  world  without,  the  complaints  of  people  who 
in  the  war  had  lost  goods  or  money  or  lives  of  those  dear  to 


LAY   I>OWN   YOUR   ARMS.  313 

them,  accounts  of  threatened  financial  catastrophes,  of  the 
outbreak  of  pestilence.  It  was  said  that  the  cholera  had  shown 
itself  among  the  Prussian  troops;  a  case  had  even  been 
reported  in  our  village,  but  only  a  doubtful  one,  it  is  true :  "  It 
might  be  diarrhoea,  which  occurs  every  summer,"  was  the 
consolatory  remark.  Let  us  only  chase  away  troubled  thoughts 
and  anxious  fears  with :  "It  is  nothing,"  or  "It  has  passed  over," 
or  "  It  will  not  come  " ;  all  this  is  so  easy  to  say.  All  that  is 
wanted  is  a  vigorous  shake  of  the  head  and  the  unpleasant 
facts  are  gone. 

"I  say,  Martha,"  said  the  hxp^y  fiancee  to  me  one  day, 
"  this  war  was  indeed  a  horrible  thing,  and  yet  I  must  bless  it ; 
without  it  should  I  ever  have  been  so  immeasurably  happy  as 
I  am  now  ?  Should  I  ever  have  had  the  opportunity  of 
xnaking  Henry's  acquaintance  ?  And  as  to  him,  would  he  ever 
have  found  a  bride  to  love  him  so  ?  " 

"Very  well,  dear  Rosa.  I  shall  be  happy  to  share  this 
view  of  it  with  you.  Let  your  two  hearts  made  happy  be 
weighed  against  the  many  thousands  of  hearts  that  have  been 
broken." 

"  But  it  is  not  only  individual  destinies  that  are  concerned, 
Martha.  In  the  gross  and  on  the  whole  war  also  brings 
great  gain  to  those  who  conquer,  and  therefore  to  a  whole 
nation.  You  must  hear  Henry  talk  on  that  subject.  He  says 
Prussia  shines  out-  grandly.  In  the  army  universal  exultation 
reigns,  and  enthusiastic  thankfulness  and  love  for  the  generals 
who  have  led  it  to  victory.  And  in  this  way  there  arises  for 
German  civilisation,  for  commerce — or  perhaps  he  said  for  the 
prosperity  of  Germany,  I  have  forgot  the  exact  term — its 
historical  mission — in  short,  you  should  hear  him  talk  himself." 

"  Why,  does  not  your  fiance  prefer  to  speak  of  your  love 
rather  than  of  political  and  military  matters  ?  " 

"Oh,  we  speak  about  everything,  and  everything  he  says 
sounds  like  music  in  my  ears.  I  feel  that  it  is  so  good  for  him 
that  he  is  proud  and  happy  to  have  joined  in  fighting  out  thii 
war  for  his  king  and  country  — ** 


314  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   AJLMft. 

"  And  carried  away  for  himself  so  dear  a  sweetheart  as  hia 
booty,"  I  added,  to  finish  her  sentence. 

His  future  son-in-law  suited  my  father  very  well,  and  who 
would  not  have  been  pleased  with  such  a  grand  young  man  ? 
Still  he  gave  him  his  sympathy  and  his  blessing  with  all  kinds 
of  protestations  and  restrictions. 

"  You  are  dear  to  me  in  every  respect,  dear  Reuss — ^as  a  man 
and  as  a  soldier  and  as  a  prince'* — this  is  what  he  said  to 
him  repeatedly,  and  in  various  modes  of  speech — "but  as  a 
Prussian  officer  of  course  I  reserve  to  myself  the  right,  despite 
any  family  connection,  of  wishing  for  nothing  so  much  as  a  future 
war,  in  which  Austria  may  pay  back  handsomely  the  present 
victory  snatched  from  her.  The  political  question  must  be 
separated  altogether  from  the  personal.  My  son  will  one  day 
— God  grant  that  I  may  live  to  see  it — take  the  field  against 
the  Prussian  state.  I  myself,  if  I  were  not  too  old,  and  if  my 
emperor  were  to  summon  me  to  it,  would  at  once  accept  a 
command  to  fight  William  I.,  and  especially  his  overbearing 
Bismarck.  This  does  not  prevent  me  from  recognising  the 
military  virtues  of  the  Prussian  army,  and  the  strategic  science 
of  its  leaders  ;  and  from  thinking  it  quite  a  matter  of  course 
that  in  the  next  campaign  you,  at  the  head  of  your  battalion, 
should  try  to  storm  our  capital,  and  set  fire  to  the  house  in 
which  your  father-in-law  lives — in  short " 

"  In  short,"  said  I,  one  day  breaking  in  on  a  rhapsody  of  this 
kind,  "  confusions  in  terms  and  inconsistencies  of  fact  twine 
round  each  other  like  the  infusoria  in  a  putrefying  drop  of  water. 
It  is  always  so,  when  you  pen  up  together  conceptions  repug- 
nant to  each  other.  To  hate  the  whole  and  love  its  parts,  to 
want  to  have  one  way  of  thinking  as  members  of  a  nation  and 
another  as  a  man.  That  will  not  do  ;  it  must  be  one  thing  or 
another.  So  I  approve  of  the  Indian  chiefs  way  of  looking  at  it. 
He  entertains  for  the  adherent  of  a  different  tribe — as  to  which 
he  does  not  even  know  that  it  consists  of  individuals — no  other 
wish  than  to  scalp  him." 

**  But  my  dear  girl,  Martha,  such  savage  feelings  do  not  suit 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  315 

the  Stage  of  our  civilisation,  which  has  grown  more  cultured 
and  more  humane." 

"  Rather  say  that  our  present  stage  of  civilisation  does  not 
suit  the  savagery  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  old  times. 
As  long  as  this  savagery,  that  is,  so  long  as  the  spirit  of  war  is 
not  cast  out,  our  much-valued  *  humanity  *  cannot  be  looked 
on  as  reasonable.  For  surely  now  as  to  the  speech  you  made 
just  now,  in  which  you  assured  Prince  Henry  that  you  would 
love  him  as  a  son-in-law  and  hate  him  as  a  Prussian,  value  him 
dearly  as  a  man,  and  abominate  him  as  an  officer,  that  you  give 
him  your  paternal  blessing  with  pleasure,  and  at  the  same  time 
allow  him  the  right,  in  given  circumstances,  of  firing  on  you, 
forgive  me,  my  dear  father,  but  will  you  really  uphold  this  as 
reasonable  ?  " 

"What  are  you  saying?     I  do  not  catch  a  word." 
The  favoiurite  deafness  had  again  come  on  at  the  right 
moment 

After  a  few  days  all  became  quiet  again  at  Grumitz.  The 
soldiers  quartered  on  us  had  to  march  off,  and  Conrad  had 
been  ordered  to  join  his  regiment  Lori  Griesbach  and  the 
Minister  had  already  departed  before. 

The  marriage  of  my  two  sisters  had  been  postponed  till 
October.  Both  were  to  be  married  on  the  same  day  at 
Grumitz.  Prince  Henry  was  to  quit  the  service  ;  now  that  he 
had  finished  this  glorious  campaign  in  which  he  had  earned 
distinction,  he  could  easily  do  this,  and  so  repose  on  his 
laurels,  and  on  his  estates. 

The  partings  of  the  two  pairs  of  lovers  were  painful  and 
joyful  at  the  same  time.  They  promised  to  write  to  each  other 
every  day,  and  the  certain  prospect  of  bliss  so  near  made  the 
anguish  of  parting  seem  not  so  severe. 

Certain  prospect  of  bliss  ?  There  is  in  reality  no  such 
thing,  and  assuredly  least  of  all  in  seasons  of  war.  Then 
misfortunes  hover  around  "  as  thick  at  the  swarms  of  gnats  in 
the  air,"  and  the  chances  that  70a  may  be  standing  on  a  spot 


3l6  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  AKlft. 

that  will  be  spared  by  the  descending  scouige  are  at  best  but 

small. 

True,  the  war  was  over.  That  is,  it  had  been  proclaimed 
that  peace  was  concluded.  A  word  is  sufficient  to  unchain  the 
horrors,  and  thence  one  is  apt  to  think  that  a  word  will  also 
suffice  to  remove  them  again,  but  no  spell  has  in  reality  that 
power.  Hostilities  may  be  suspended,  and  yet  hostility  may 
persist.  The  seed  of  future  war  is  sown,  and  the  fruit  of  the 
war  just  ended  spreads  still  further,  in  wretchedness,  savagery, 
and  plagues.  Yes,  no  falsehood  and  no  "  not  thinking  of  it " 
was  any  good  now,  the  cholera  was  raging  through  the  country. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  8th  August  We  were  all  seated 
at  the  breakfast-table  and  reading  our  correspondence  which 
had  just  come  by  the  post.  The  two  fiandes  had  fastened  on 
the  love  letters  that  had  come  for  them,  I  was  turning  over  the 
newspapers.     From  Vienna  the  news  was : — 

The  cholera  death-rate  is  rising  considerably.  Not  only  in  the 
military  but  also  in  the  civil  hospitals  many  cases  have  been  already 
reported,  which  must  be  looked  on  as  genuine  Asiatic  cholera,  and 
energetic  measures  are  being  taken  on  all  sides  to  check  the  progress  of 
the  epidemic. 

I  was  about  to  read  the  passage  aloud  when  Aunt  Mary,  who 
had  in  her  hand  a  letter  from  one  of  her  friends  in  a  neigh- 
bouring chMeau,  gave  a  cry  of  horror. 

"  Horrible  I  Betty  writes  me  that  in  her  house  two  persons 
have  died  of  cholera,  and  now  her  husband  is  ill  also." 

"Your  excellence,  the  schoolmaster  wishes  to  speak  to  you." 

The  gentleman  announced  followed  the  footman  into  the 
room.     He  looked  pale  and  bewildered. 

"Count,  I  tell  you,  with  all  deference,  that  I  must  close  the 
school.  Two  children  were  taken  ill  yesterday,  and  to-day 
they  are  dead." 

"  The  cholera  ?  "  we  cried  out 

"  I  think  it  is.  I  think  we  must  give  it  that  name.  The 
so-called  diarrhoea  which  broke  out  among  the  soldiers 
quartered  here,  and  of  which  twenty  of  them  died,  was  the 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  317 

choletm.  Great  terror  prevails  in  the  village,  because  the 
doctor  who  came  here  from  town  has  affirmed  without  any 
concealment  that  the  horrible  disease  has  now  beyond  doubt 
taken  hold  of  the  population  of  this  place." 

"What  sound  is  that,"  I  asked,  listening,  "  that  one  hears?" 

"That  is  the  passing-bell,  baroness,"  announced  the  school- 
master. "Some  one  must  be  lying  at  his  last  gasp.  The 
doctor  tells  us  that  in  town  the  passing-bell  absolutely  never 
stops  ringing." 

We  all  looked  round  at  each  other,  pale  and  speechless. 
So  here  it  was  again — Death — and  each  one  of  us  saw  his  bony 
hand  stretched  out  in  the  direction  of  some  dear  one's  head. 

"  Let  us  flee  ! "  suggested  Aunt  Mary. 

"  Flee  ?  whither  ?  "  answered  the  schoolmaster.  "  The  pest 
has  by  this  time  spread  everywhere  round." 

"  Oh,  far,  far  away,  over  the  frontier " 

"  But  a  cordon  will  be  drawn  there,  over  which  no  one  will 
be  allowed  to  pass." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  horrible !  Surely  no  one  would  hinder 
people  from  quitting  a  land  stricken  with  pestilence  ?  " 

"Assuredly,  the  healthy  neighbourhoods  will  protect  them- 
selves against  infection." 

"What  is  to  be  done?  what  is  to  be  done?"  And  Aunt 
Mary  wrung  her  hands. 

"To  await  God's  will,"  answered  my  father.  "You  are 
besides  such  a  believer  in  destiny,  Mary,  I  cannot  understand 
your  desire  for  flight.  Every  one's  fate  finds  him,  wherever  he 
is.  But,  at  the  same  time,  I  should  like  it  better  if  you,  children, 
could  depart ;  and  you,  Otto,  see  that  you  touch  no  more  fruit." 

"  I  will  telegraph  at  once  to  Bresser,"  said  Frederick,  "  to 
send  on  disinfectants." 

What  happened  immediately  after  this  I  am  no  longer  able 
to  set  down  in  detail,  because  the  scene  at  the  breakfast-table 
was  the  last  which  at  that  time  I  entered  in  the  red  book.  I 
can  only  tell  the  events  of  the  next  few  days  from  memory. 
Fear  and  anxiety  filled  us  all — ^yei,  all     Who,  in  a  time  of 


3l8  JUAT   DOWN   YOUR  ARMt. 

epidemic,  could  help  trembling  when  liTing  amongst  those 
dear  to  him  ?  For  the  sword  of  Damocles  was  always  suspended 
over  the  dear  one's  head,  and  even  to  die  oneself,  so  terribly 
and  so  uselesily,  who  is  there  that  such  a  thought  would  not 
fill  with  horror  ?  The  chief  proof  of  courage  consists  in  this : 
not  to  think  about  it. 

To  flee  ?  The  idea  had  occurred  to  myself  also,  so  as  to  get 
my  little  Rudolf  into  a  safe  place. 

My  father,  in  spite  of  all  his  fatalism,  insisted  on  (light  for 
the  others.  The  whole  family  were  to  be  off  next  day.  He 
alone  determined  on  remaining,  in  order  not  to  abandon  his 
household  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  village  in  their  danger. 
Frederick  declared  in  the  most  decisive  manner  his  determina- 
tion to  remain,  and  this  involved  at  once  my  decision.  I 
would  never  voluntarily  leave  my  husband. 

Aunt  Mary  with  the  two  girls  and  with  Otto  and  Rudolf 
were  to  depart  as  quickly  as  possible — whither  ?  That  was  not 
yet  settled.  In  the  first  place,  to  Hungary — as  far  away  as 
possible.  The  fiancits  did  not  make  any  opposition  whatever, 
but  were  busy  in  helping  to  pack.  To  die,  when  the  near 
future  promised  the  fulfilment  of  the  warm  desires  of  love,  ue.^ 
a  tenfold  delight  in  living,  would  be  to  die  tenfold. 

The  boxes  had  been  brought  into  the  dining-room,  so  that 
with  the  united  assistance  of  all  the  work  might  go  on  quicker. 
I  was  bringing  a  package  of  Rudolfs  clothes  under  my  arm. 

"  Why  does  not  your  maid  do  that  ?  "  asked  my  father. 

"  I  do  not  know  where  Netty  has  got  to.  I  have  rung  for 
her  several  times,  and  she  does  not  come,  so  I  prefer  to  wait 
on  myself." 

"  You  spoil  your  people,"  said  my  father  angrily,  and  he  gave 
orders  to  a  footman  to  look  for  the  girl  everywhere  and  bring 
her  there  immediately. 

After  a  time  the  man  who  had  been  sent  returned,  looking 
confused. 

"  Netty  is  lying  down  in  her  room.     She  is — she  has — she 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  319 

"  Well,  can't  you  speak  ?  "  thundered  my  father.  "  What  is 
ehc  matter  with  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  already — quite  black." 

A  cry  burst  out  of  all  our  mouths.  So  the  horrible  spectre 
was  already  present  in  our  own  very  house. 

Now,  what  should  we  do  ?  Could  one  leave  the  poor  girl  to 
die  unaided  ?  But  whoever  went  near  her  brought  death  on 
himself  almost  certainly,  and  not  only  on  himself,  he  spread  it 
again  more  widely  among  the  rest.  Ah  !  a  house  like  that, 
into  which  the  pest  has  penetrated,  is  like  one  encircled  by 
robbers,  or  as  if  it  were  in  flames ;  everywhere  and  in  every 
comer  and  place,  at  every  step  and  move,  Death  is  grinning  at 
you. 

"  Fetch  the  doctor  immediately,"  was  my  father's  order 
'*  And  you,  children,  hurry  your  departure." 

"The  doctor  went  back  to  town  an  hour  ago,"  was  the 
servant's  reply  to  my  father's  direction. 

**  Oh,  dear !  I  feel  so  ill,"  now  cried  Lilly,  and  she  turned 
pale  to  her  very  lips,  and  clutched  at  the  arm  of  her  chair. 

We  ran  to  her :  "What  is  the  matter  with  you?" — "Don't  be 
foolish  "— "  It  is  only  fear  ". 

But  it  was  not  fear,  there  was  no  doubt  what  it  was.  We 
had  to  carry  the  poor  thing  to  her  room,  where  she  was  seized 
at  once  with  violent  vomiting  and  the  other  symptoms.  This 
was  the  second  case  of  cholera  in  the  chateau  in  this  same  day. 

It  was  horrible  to  see  my  poor  sister's  sufferings.  And  no 
doctor  at  hand !  Frederick  was  the  only  one  who  could 
perform  the  duty  of  one,  as  well  as  he  might.  He  ordered 
what  was  wanted — warm  fomentations,  mustard  poultices  to 
the  stomach  and  the  legs,  ice  in  ^  fragments,  champagne. 
Nothing  did  any  good.  These  means,  which  are  sufficient  for 
slight  attacks  of  cholera,  could  not  save  in  this  case.  But  at 
least  they  gave  the  patient  and  the  bystanders  the  comfort  of 
knowing  that  something  was  being  done.  When  the  attacks 
had  subsided,  the  cramps  followed,  quiverings  and  tearings  of 
the  whole  frame  till  the  very  bones  cracked.     The  poor  thing 


320  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

tried  to  lament,  but  could  not,  for  her  voice  failed,  the  skiyi 
turned  blue  and  cold,  the  breath  stopped. 

My  father  was  running  up  and  down,  wringing  his  handi 
Once  I  put  myself  in  his  way. 

"  This  is  war,  father,"  I  said     "  Will  not  you  curse  it  ?  " 

He  shook  me  oflf  and  gave  no  reply. 

In  ten  hours  Lilly  was  dead.  Netty,  my  poor  lady's  maid 
had  died  before — alone,  in  her  room.  We  were  all  of  us  busy 
about  Lilly,  and  of  the  servants,  none  had  ventured  to  go  near 
one  who  had  "  already  turned  quite  black  ". 


Meanwhile  Dr.  Bresser  had  arrived.  He  himself  broughe 
the  medicines  which  we  had  telegraphed  for.  I  could  have 
kissed  his  hands  as  he  walked  into  the  midst  of  us  to  devote 
his  self-sacrificing  services  to  his  old  friends.  He  at  once  took 
on  himself  the  command  of  the  establishment.  He  had  the 
two  corpses  carried  into  a  remote  chamber,  barred  up  the 
rooms  in  which  the  poor  things  had  died,  and  made  us  all 
submit  to  a  powerful  disinfecting  process.  An  intense  carbolic 
odour  now  penetrated  all  the  rooms,  and  to  this  day,  whenever 
this  smell  meets  me,  those  dreadful  days  of  cholera  rise  before 
my  imagination. 

The  intended  flight  had  to  be  postponed  a  second  time. 
On  the  very  day  of  Lilly's  death,  the  carriage  was  standing 
ready  which  was  to  convey  away  Aunt  Mary,  Rosa,  Otto,  and 
my  little  boy,  when  the  coachman,  seized  by  the  invisible 
destroyer,  was  forced  to  get  off  the  coach-box  again. 

"  Then  I  will  drive  you,*'  said  my  father,  when  the  news  was 
brought  to  him.     "  Quick,  is  everything  ready  ?  " 

Rosa  came  out.  "  Drive  on,"  she  said,  "  but  I  must  stop 
behind.     I  am  going  Lilly's  way." 

And  she  spoke  truth.  The  break  of  day  dawned  on  this 
second  young  bride  too  in  the  chamber  of  death. 

Of  course,  in  the  horror  of  this  new  calamity,  the  departure 
of  the  others  was  not  carried  out 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  ^21 

In  the  midst  of  my  anguish,  of  my  raging  fear,  the  deepest 
scorn  again  seized  me  for  that  gigantic  folly  which  had  volun- 
tarily called  forth  so  great  a  calamity.  My  father,  when  Rosa's 
corpse  had  been  carried  out,  had  sunk  on  his  knees,  with  his 
head  against  the  wall. 

I  went  to  him,  and  took  him  by  the  arm.  "  Father,**  I  said, 
"  this  is  war."  No  answer.  "  Father,  do  you  hear  ?  Now  or 
never,  will  you  now  curse  war  ?  " 

He,  however,  collected  himself. 

"  You  remind  me  of  it — this  misfortune  shall  be  borne  with  a 
soldier's  courage.  It  is  not  I  alone,  the  whole  country  has  to 
offer  its  sacrifice  of  blood  and  tears." 

"What  comfort  then  has  come  to  the  country  from  the 
sufferings  of  you  and  your  brethren  ?  What  comfort  from  the 
lost  battles?  What  from  these  two  girls'  lives  cut  short? 
Father !  Oh  do  me  this  kindness  for  the  love  of  me  !— curse 
war  I  See  here  *' — I  drew  him  to  a  window,  and  just  then  a 
black  coffin  was  being  brought  on  a  car  i^ato  the  courtyard — 
"  See  here ;  that  is  for  our  Lilly,  and  to-morrow  another  such 
for  our  Rosa,  and  the  day  after  perhaps  a  third ;  and  why, 
why?" 

"Because  God  has  willed  it  so,  my  chfld.* 

"God— always  God.  All  that,  however,  is  foUy.  All 
savagery,  all  the  arbitrary  action  of  men,  hiding  itself  under 
the  shield  of  God's  will." 

"  Do  not  blaspheme,  Martha  I  Do  not  blaspheme  now 
when  God's  chastening  hand  is  so  visibly " 

A  footman  came  into  the  room. 

"Your  excellency,  the  carpenter  will  not  carry  the  coffin  into 
the  chamber  where  the  countesses  are  lying,  and  no  one  wiU 
venture  into  it." 

"  Not  you,  either,  coward  ?  *  . 

"  I  could  not  alone." 

"  Then  I  will  help  you.  I  will  myself  see  to  my  daughtcn  ; " 
and  he  strode  to  the  door. 

**  Back,"  he  cried  to  me.  as  I  was  following  him  ;  "you  must 

fl 


531  LAT  DOWN  TOUR  ARM!. 

not  go  with  me.     You  must  not  die  as  well  as  me — think  of 

your  child." 

What  could  I  do  ?  I  hesitated.  That  is  the  most  torturing 
thing  in  such  circumstances — ^not  to  know  at  all  where  one's 
duty  lies.  If  one  pays  to  the  sick  and  the  dead  the  loving 
service  which  one's  heart  yearns  to  do,  then  one  spreads  the 
germs  of  the  evil  wider  again,  and  brings  danger  on  the  others 
who  have  as  yet  been  spared.  One  would  be  willing  to 
sacrifice  oneself ;  but  one  knows  that  in  risking  this  one  risks 
sacrificing  others  also. 

In  such  a  dilemma  there  is  only  one  helpful  way — ^to  give 
up  life,  not  one's  own  merely,  but  also  that  of  all  one's  dear 
ones — to  assume  that  all  is  done  with,  and  for  each  one  to  stand 
by  the  other  in  his  hours  of  suffering,  as  long  as  they  last. 
Looking  backward,  looking  forward — all  that  must  cease. 
Together !  On  the  deck  of  a  sinking  ship,  no  means  of  escape 
— *'  let  us  hold  each  other  in  our  arms — close,  close  as  possible, 
to  the  last  moment ;  and  adieu,  fair  world  " 

This  resignation  had  come  over  us  all.  The  plan  of  flight 
had  been  given  up ;  every  one  went  to  the  bed  of  every 
patient,  and  of  every  one  who  had  died.  Even  Bresser  no 
longer  tried  to  keep  us  from  this,  the  only  humane  way  of 
acting.  His  neighbourhood,  his  energetic,  unresting  rule  gave 
us  a  certain  feeling  of  security.  Our  sinking  ship  was  at  least 
not  without  a  captain. 

Oh  that  cholera  week  in  Gnimitz !  Over  twenty  years  have 
passed  since  then,  but  I  still  feel  a  shudder  through  my  bones 
and  marrow  when  I  think  of  it.  Tears,  wailing,  heart-rending 
death-scenes,  the  smell  of  carbolic  acid,  the  cracking  of  the 
bones  of  those  seized  with  cramp,  the  disgusting  symptoms, 
the  incessant  tolling  of  the  death-bell,  the  interment — no,  the 
huddling  away— yof  the  dead,  for  in  such  cases  there  is  no 
funeral  pomp.  All  the  order  of  life  given  up  ;  no  meal  times — 
the  cook  was  dead.  No  going  to  sleep  at  nights.  Here  and 
there  a  morsel  snatched  standing,  and  a  doze  as  one  sat  in  one's 
chair  in  the  morning  hours.     Outside,  a§  though  from  the  ironj 


L4T   DOWN   YOUA   A&MS.  333 

of  Indifferent  Nature,  the  most  splendid  summer  weather; 
the  joyous  song  of  the  blackbird,  the  luxuriant  colours  of  the 
flower-beds.  In  the  village,  death  without  cessation.  All  the 
Prussians  who  were  left  behind  were  dead. 

**  I  met  the  man  who  buries  the  dead  to-day,**  said  Francis, 
our  V€Uct  de  chambre^  "  as  he  was  coming  back  from  the  church- 
yard with  his  empty  carriage.  *One  or  two  more  taken  there  ? ' 
I  asked.  '  Oh  yes  \  six  or  seven — about  half-a-dozen  every  day, 
sometimes  even  more ;  and  it  does  happen  sometimes  that  one 
or  other  gives  a  grunt  or  so  inside  the  hearse  there;  but  that 

makes  no  matter,  in  he  goes  into  the   trench,  the  d d 

Prussian." 

Next  day  the  monster  died  himself,  and  another  man  had 
to  take  up  his  office — at  that  time  the  most  laborious  in  the 
place.  The  post  brought  nothing  but  sorrow — news  from  all 
quarters  of  the  ravages  of  the  pest ;  and  love  letters — letters 
to  remain  for  ever  unanswered — from  Prince  Henry,  who  knew 
nothing  of  what  was  going  on.  To  Conrad  I  had  sent  a  single 
line  to  prepare  him  for  the  awful  event — "  Lilly  very  ill ".  He 
could  not  come  immediately,  the  service  detained  him.  It  was 
not  till  the  fourth  day  that  the  poor  fellow  rushed  into  the 
house. 

"Lilly I"  he  cried.  "Is  it  true?"  He  had  heard  of  the 
misfortune  as  he  was  on  the  way. 

We  said  yes. 

He  remained  unnaturally  still  and  tearless. 

"  I  have  loved  her  many  years,"  was  all  he  said,  low  to  him 
self.    Then  aloud :  "  Where  is  she  lying  ?    In  the  churchyard  ? 
Good-bye.    She  is  waiting  for  me." 

"  Shall  I  come  with  you  ?  "  some  one  offered. 

**  No,  I  prefer  going  alone." 

He  went,  and  we  saw  him  no  more.  On  the  grave  of  his 
sweetheart  he  put  a  bullet  through  his  brains. 

So  ended  Conrad  Count  Althaus,  captain-lieutenant  in 
the  Fourth  Regiment  of  Hussars,  in  hit  twenty-seventh 
year. 


324  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

At  another  time  the  tragic  nature  of  this  event  would  have 
produced  a  very  shocking  effect;  but  now,  how  many  young 
officers  had  not  the  war  carried  off  immediately,  this  one  only 
indirectly  I  And  at  the  moment  when  we  heard  of  his  deed  a 
new  misfortime  had  occurred  in  our  midst  which  called  for  all 
the  anguish  of  our  hearts.  Otto,  my  poor  father's  adored  and 
only  son,  was  seized  by  the  destroying  angel.  His  sufferings 
lasted  the  whole  night  and  the  next  day,  with  alternations  of 
hope  and  despair ;  about  7  p.m.  all  was  over.  My  father  threw 
himself  on  the  corpse  with  such  a  thrilling  shriek  that  it  pealed 
through  the  whole  house.  We  could  hardly  tear  him  from  the 
dead  body.  And  oh  !  the  cries  of  agony  that  now  ensued ;  for 
hours  and  hours  long  the  old  man  poured  out  howling,  roaring, 
rattling  shrieks  of  desperation.  His  son — his  pride — his  Otto 
—his  all  I 

To  this  outburst  succeeded  on  a  sudden  a  stiff,  dumb  apathy. 
He  had  not  had  the  strength  to  attend  the  burial  of  his 
darling.  He  lay  on  a  sofa,  motionless,  and,  it  almost  seemed, 
unconscious.  Bresser  ordered  him  to  be  undressed  and  put  to 
bed. 

After  an  hour  he  seemed  to  awake.  Aunt  Mary,  Frederick 
and  I  were  at  his  side.  For  a  time  he  looked  about  him  with 
a  questioning  look,  and  then  sat  up  and  tried  to  speak.  He 
could  not,  however,  pronounce  a  word  and  was  struggling  for 
breath,  with  a  puzzled  face  of  anguish.  Then  he  began  to 
shake  and  to  throw  himself  about,  as  if  he  were  attacked  by 
those  terrible  cramps  which  are  the  last  symptoms  of  the 
cholera,  though  he  had  not  shown  any  of  the  other  symptoms 
of  it.     At  last  he  got  out  one  word — *'  Martha  1 " 

I  fell  on  my  knees  at  his  bedside. 

"  Father,  my  poor,  dear  father  I " 

He  held  his  hands  over  my  head. 

"  Your  wish,"  said  he  with  difficulty,  "  may  be  fulfilled.  I 
curse — I  cur " 

He  could  get  no  further  and  sank  back  on  his  pillow. 

In  the  meantime,  Bresser  had  come  in,  and,  in  answer  to  otu 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  3^5 

tnxious  questions,  gave  us  his  opinion  that  a  spasm  of  the  heart 
had  caused  my  father's  death. 

"  The  most  terrible  thing,"  said  Aunt  Mary  after  we  had 
buried  him,  **  is  that  he  departed  with  a  curse  on  his  lips." 

"  Don't  trouble  about  that,  aunt,"  I  said,  to  console  her. 
"  If  that  curse  fell  from  the  lips  of  everybody — yes,  of  every- 
body— it  would  be  a  great  blessing  to  humanity." 


Such  was  the  cholera  week  at  Grumitz.  In  the  space  of 
seven  days  nine  inhabitants  of  the  chiteau  had  been  snatched 
away :  my  father,  Lilly,  Rosa,  Otto,  my  maid  Netty,  the  cook, 
the  coachman,  and  two  grooms.  In  the  village,  during  the 
same  time,  over  eighty  persons  died. 

Stated  in  this  dry  way  all  this  sounds  like  a  noteworthy 
statistical  fact,  or  if  it  stands  recorded  in  a  tale  book,  like  an 
extravagant  play  of  the  author's  fancy.  But  it  is  neither  so  dry 
as  the  one  nor  so  romantically  terrible  as  the  other.  It  is  a 
cold,  intelligible  fact,  full  of  sadness. 

It  was  not  Grumitz  alone  in  our  neighbourhood  that  was 
80  hardly  hit.  Whoever  chooses  to  search  the  annals  of  the 
neighbouring  villages  and  chateaux  may  find  there  plenty  of 
similar  cases  of  enormous  calamity.  For  example,  there  is 
Schloss  Stockern,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  little  town  of  Horn.  Of 
the  family  which  inhabited  it,  during  the  time  from  the  9th  to  the 
13th  of  August,  1866,  and  also  after  the  departure  of  the  Prussian 
troops  quartered  there,  four  members  of  the  family — Rudolf  aged 
twenty,  his  sisters  Emily  and  Bertha,  and  his  uncle  Candide ; 
and,  besides  them,  five  of  the  servants  succumbed  to  the  plague. 
1  he  youngest  daughter,  Pauline  von  Engelshofen,  was  spared. 
She  afterwards  married  a  Baron  Suttner,  and  she,  even  now, 
itiU  tells  with  a  shudder  the  tale  of  the  cholera  week  at  Stockern. 

At  that  time  such  a  resignation  to  woe  and  death  had  come 
over  me  that  I  was  in  daily  expectation  that  Death,  whose 
characters  had  been  stamped  on  the  land  for  the  last  two 
months,  would  carry  off  myself  and  my   loved   odm.      My 


325  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

Frederick,  my  Rudolf;  I  actually  wept  for  them  in  anticipa- 
tion. And  yet,  along  with  all  this,  and  in  the  midst  of  my  trouble, 
I  still  had  sweet  moments.  Such  were  when  leaning  on  my 
husband's  breast,  and  encircled  by  his  loving  arms,  I  could 
pour  my  tears  out  on  his  faithful  heart.  How  gently  then 
would  he  speak  words  to  me,  not  of  consolation,  but  of  fellow- 
feeling  and  love ;  so  that  my  own  heart  warmed  and  expanded 
to  them.  No,  the  world  is  not  so  bad,  I  was  compelled  against 
my  will  to  think.  The  world  is  not  all  lamentation  and  cruelty. 
Compassion  and  love  are  alive  in  it — at  present,  it  is  true,  only 
in  individual  souls,  not  as  an  all-pervading  law  and  a  prevailing 
normal  condition.  Still  they  are  present ;  and  just  as  these 
feelings  glow  in  us  twain,  sweetening,  by  means  of  their  gentle 
contact,  even  this  time  of  suffering,  just  as  they  dwell  in  many 
other,  nay,  in  most  other  souls,  so  they  will  one  day  come  to  an 
outbreak,  and  will  dominate  the  general  relationi  of  the  human 
family.    The  future  belongs  to  goodness. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Summer  sojourn  in  Switzerland. — My  husbands  researches  in 
the  history  of  the  Geneva  convention^  and  in  international 
law,  —  Seclusion  and  mourning. —  Visit  to  Vienna, — 
Frederick  enters  a  new  army^  the  army  of  peace, —  Visit  to 
Berlin, — On  our  way  we  visit  the  battlefield  of  Sadowa  on 
All  Souls*  Day. —  The  emperor  as  a  mourner. — Aunt  Cor- 
nelia :  her  grief  and  the  consolations  of  religion. — The  army 
chaplain.  —  A  military-theological  discussion. —  We  are 
summoned  to  Aunt  Mary's  deathbed. — Retired  life  at 
Vienna.-^Minister  '' To-be-sure'\— Political  talks. —  Uni- 
versal liability  to  serve. 

We  passed  the  remainder  of  the  summer  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Geneva.  Dr.  Bresser's  powers  of  persuasion  had  at  last 
succeeded  in  moving  us  to  fly  from  the  infected  country.  I  at 
first  strove  against  leaving  so  quickly  the  graves  of  ray  family, 
and,  as  I  have  said,  I  was  filled  with  such  a  resignation  to  death 
that  I  had  become  wholly  apathetic,  and  held  every  attempt  at 
flight  to  be  useless ;  but  in  spite  of  all  this  Bresser  was  certain  to 
conquer  when  he  represented  to  me  that  it  was  my  maternal  duty 
to  carry  little  Rudolf  out  of  the  way  of  danger  as  well  as  I  could. 

That  we  chose  Switzerland  as  our  place  of  refuge  resulted 
from  Frederick's  wish.  He  wanted  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  men  who  had  called  the  "Red  Cross"  into  life,  and  to 
gain  information  on  the  spot  about  the  proceedings  of  the 
conferences  which  had  been  held,  as  well  as  about  the  further 
aims  of  the  convention. 

hrccicnck  had  given  in  his  resignation  of  the  military  service, 

(327) 


3*8  LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

and  as  a  preliminary  had  received  balf-a-year's  leave  till  his 
request  should  be  granted.  I  had  now  become  rich,  very  rich. 
The  death  of  my  father,  and  of  my  brother  and  two  sisters,  had 
put  me  in  possession  of  Grumitz  and  of  the  whole  family 
property. 

"  Look  here,"  I  said  to  Frederick,  when  the  title  deeds  were 
delivered  to  me  from  the  notary's,  "  what  would  you  say  if  1 
were  now  to  praise  the  war  which  has  just  passed  because 
of  the  advantages  which  have  fallen  to  my  share  from  its 
consequences  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  you  would  not  then  be  my  Martha.  Still  I  under- 
stand what  you  mean.  The  heartless  egotism,  which  is  capable 
of  rejoicing  over  material  gains  that  proceed  out  of  the  ruin  of 
others — this  impulse  which  every  individual,  even  if  he  is  basa 
enough  to  feel  it,  still  takes  all  possible  care  to  hide — is  proudly 
and  openly  confessed  by  nations  and  dynasties.  'Thousands 
have  perished  in  untold  sufferings;  but  we  have  thereby  in- 
creased in  territory  and  in  power :  so  let  there  be  praises  and 
thanks  to  Heaven  for  the  successful  war  1  * " 

We  lived  very  quietly,  and  retired,  in  a  small  villa  situated 
on  the  shore  of  the  lake.  I  was  so  oppressed  by  the  scenes 
through  which  I  had  gone,  that  I  would  have  absolutely  no 
intercourse  with  any  strangers.  Frederick  respected  my  mourn- 
ing, and  made  no  attempt  whatever  to  recommend  me  the 
vulgar  resource  of  "  diversion  "  as  a  cure  for  it ;  I  owed  it  to 
the  graves  at  Grumitz — and  my  tender  husband  saw  this  well — 
to  grieve  over  them  for  some  time  in  perfect  quiet.  Those  who 
had  been  hurried  so  speedily  and  so  cruelly  out  of  this  fair  world 
should  not  be  equally  quickly  and  coldly  stolen  also  out  of  the 
place  of  memory  which  they  held  in  my  mourning  heart. 

Frederick  himself  went  often  into  the  city,  in  order  to  follow 
up  the  object  of  his  stay  here — the  study  of  the  Red  Cross 
question.  Of  the  results  of  this  study  I  do  not  retain  any  clear 
recollection.  I  did  not  at  that  time  keep  any  diary ;  and  thus 
what  Frederick  communicated  to  me  of  the  experience!  he  met 
with  has  for  the  most  part  passed  out  of  my  recollection.     I 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  3^9 

only  recollect  clearly  one  impression  which  the  whole  of  my 
surroundings  made  on  me — the  quiet,  the  ease,  the  cheerful 
activity  of  the  people  whom  I  happened  to  see,  as  if  they 
were  living  in  a  most  peaceful,  most  good-humoured  time. 
There  was  hardly  anywhere  even  an  echo  of  the  war  that  had 
just  ended,  or  at  the  most  in  a  conversational  tone,  as  if  it 
had  contributed  one  more  interesting  event — nothing  more — 
which  might  furnish  pleasant  matter  for  talk  along  with  the  rest 
of  European  gossip :  as  if  the  awful  thunder  of  the  cannonades 
on  the  Bohemian  battlefields  had  had  nothing  more  tragic  in 
them  than  a  new  opera  by  Wagner.  The  thing  belonged  now 
to  history,  and  had  for  its  result  some  alterations  in  the  atlas ; 
but  its  horror  had  passed  out  of  recollection,  or  perhaps  had 
never  been  present  to  these  neutrals;  it  was  forgotten;  the 
pain  was  over;  it  had  vanished.  The  same  with  the  news- 
papers. I  read  French  newspapers  chiefly ;  all  the  interest  was 
concentrated  about  the  Universal  Exhibition  in  Paris  which  was 
in  preparation  for  1867  >  about  the  court  festivities  at  Compibgne ; 
about  literary  celebrities  (two  new  geniuses  had  come  to  light 
who  caused  much  discussion,  Flaubert  and  Zola);  about  the 
events  of  the  drama — a  new  opera  by  Gounod — a  new  leading 
part  designed  by  Offenbach  for  Hortense  Schneider;  and  so 
forth.  The  little  exciting  duel  which  the  Prussians  and 
Austrians  had  fought  out  /d  bas  en  BoJCeme  was  an  event  that 
had  already  become  to  some  extent  a  thing  of  the  past  Ah  ! 
what  lies  three  months  back  or  at  thirty  miles'  distance,  what 
is  not  being  played  out  in  the  domain  of  the  Now  and  the 
Here,  is  a  thing  which  the  short  feelers  of  the  human  heart  and 
the  human  memory  cannot  reach!  We  quitted  Switzerland 
towards  the  middle  of  October.  We  betook  ourselves  back  to 
Vienna,  where  the  course  of  the  business  of  my  inheritance 
required  my  presence.  When  this  business  was  despatched, 
our  intention  was  to  stay  for  a  considerable  time  at  Paris. 
Frederick  had  it  in  his  mind  to  smooth  the  way  with  all  his 
power  for  the  idea  of  a  league  of  peace ;  and  his  view  was  that 
tbt  projected  Universal  £xhibitioB  offered  the  best  opportunity 


330  LAY  DOWN   TOUK  ARMt. 

for  setting  on  foot  a  congress  of  friends  of  peace,  and  he  also 
thought  Paris  the  most  appropriate  place  for  giving  actual 
vitality  to  what  was  a  matter  of  international  concern. 

"  I  have,"  he  said,  "  renounced  the  trade  of  war,  and  that  I 
have  done  from  convictions  gained  in  actual  war.  I  will  now 
work  for  these  convictions.  I  enter  the  service  of  the  peace 
army.  A  very  small  army  indeed,  it  is  true,  and  one  whose 
combatants  have  no  other  shield  or  sword  than  the  sentiment 
of  justice  and  the  love  of  humanity.  Still,  everything  which  has 
ultimately  become  great  has  started  from  small  or  invisible 
beginnings." 

"Ah!"  I  sighed;  "it  is  a  hopeless  beginning.  What  can  you 
— a  single  man — achieve  against  that  mighty  fortress,  thousands 
of  years  old,  and  garrisoned  by  millions  of  men  ?  " 

"  Achieve  ?  I  ?  I  am  not  really  so  foolish  as  to  hope  that 
I  personally  shall  bring  about  a  conversion.  I  was  only  saying 
just  then  that  I  wished  to  enter  the  ranks  of  the  peace-army. 
When  I  had  my  place  in  the  army  of  war,  did  I,  do  you  suppose^ 
hope  that  /  should  save  my  country,  that  /  should  conquer  a 
province?  No;  the  individual  can  only  serve.  And  still 
further,  he  must  serve.  A  man  who  is  penetrated  by  any  cause 
cannot  do  better  than  work  for  it — than  devote  his  life  to  it, 
even  if  he  knows  how  little  this  life,  in  and  by  itself,  can  contri- 
bute towards  its  victory.  He  serves  because  he  must ;  not  only 
the  state,  but  our  own  conviction,  if  it  is  enthusiastic,  lays  on 
us  the  duty  of  defending  it." 

"  You  are  right,  and  if  at  length  there  are  enough  millions 
animated  by  the  enthusiasm  of  this  duty,  then  that  thousand- 
year- old  fortress  will  be  abandoned  by  its  garrison  and  must 
fall." 

From  Vienna,  I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Grumitz,  whose 
mistress  I  had  now  become.  But  I  did  not  even  enter  the 
chateau.  I  only  laid  down  four  wreaths  in  the  churchyard, 
and  drove  back  again.  After  my  most  important  matters  of 
business  were  put  in  order,  Frederick  proposed  a  little  journey 
to  Berlin,  in  order  to  pay  a  visit  to  Aunt  Cornelia,  who  was  so 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  33 1 

much  to  be  pitied.  I  assented.  During  our  absence  1  put 
my  little  son  Rudolf  in  the  charge  of  Aunt  Mary.  The  latter 
had  been  cast  down  more  than  I  can  describe  by  the  events 
of  the  cholera  week  at  Grumitz.  Her  whole  love,  her  whole 
interest  in  life,  she  now  concentrated  on  my  little  Rudolf.  I 
even  hoped  that  she  might  be  somewhat  diverted  and  raised  in 
her  spirits  by  having  the  child  with  her  for  a  time. 

We  left  Vienna  on  November  i.  We  broke  our  journey  in 
Prague,  intending  to  spend  the  night  there.  Next  day,  instead 
of  pursuing  our  journey  to  Berlin,  we  made  a  new  pilgrimage. 

"  All  Souls*  Day,"  said  I.  **  How  many  poor  dead  bodies 
are  lying  on  the  battlefield  in  this  neighbourhood,  for  whom 
even  this  day  of  honour  to  the  graves  does  nothing,  because 
they  have  no  graves.     Who  will  pay  them  a  visit  ?  " 

I  looked  at  him  for  a  while  in  silence.  Then,  half  aloud,  I 
said: — 

"Will  you?" 

He  nodded.  We  understood  one  another,  and  in  an  hour 
we  were  on  our  way  to  Chlum  and  Koniggratz. 

What  a  prospect  An  elegy  of  Tiedge  came  into  my 
mind* 

Ob,  sight  of  horror  I  mighty  prince,  come,  tee, 
And  o'er  this  awful  heap  of  mouldering  clay 
Swear  to  thy  folk  a  gentler  lord  to  be, 
And  give  to  earth  the  light  of  peaceful  day. 

Great  leader,  when  thou  thirstest  for  renown, 
Come,  count  these  skulls,  before  the  solemn  honr 

When  thine  own  head  must  lay  aside  its  crown, 
And  in  Death's  silence  ends  thy  dream  of  power. 

Let  the  dread  vision  hover  o'er  thee  ever 
Of  these  sad  corpses  here  around  thee  strown, 

And  then  say,  does  it  charm  thee,  the  endeavour 
Upon  men's  ruins  to  erect  thy  throne  ? 

Yc«^  unfortunately  it  will  charm  men,  so  long  as  the  histories 
of  the  world,  /.#.,  those  who  write  them,  build  the  statues  of 


33*  I-AY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

their  heroes  out  of  the  ruins  of  war,  so  long  as  they  offer  thei> 
crowns  to  the  Titans  of  public  murder.  To  refuse  the  laurel 
crown,  to  give  up  fame,  would  be  nobler.  Is  that  what  the 
poet  means  ?  The  first  thing  to  do  should  be  to  despoil  the 
thing,  which  it  should  appear  so  beneficent  to  renounce,  of  its 
glory,  and  then  there  would  be  no  ambitious  man  any  longer 
to  grasp  after  it. 

It  was  twilight  already  when  we  got  to  Chlum,  and  from 
thence  walked  on,  arm  in  arm,  to  the  battlefield,  near  at  hand, 
in  silent  horror.  A  mist  was  falling,  mingled  with  very  fine 
snowflakes,  and  the  dull  branches  of  the  trees  were  bent  by  the 
shrill-sounding  pipe  of  a  cold  November  wind.  Crowds  of 
graves,  and  the  graves  of  crowds,  were  all  around  us.  But  a 
churchyard? — no.  No  pilgrim  weary  of  life  had  there  been 
invited  to  rest  and  peace ;  there,  in  the  midst  of  their  youthful 
fire  of  life,  exulting  in  the  fullest  strength  of  their  manhood, 
the  waiters  on  the  future  had  been  cast  down  by  force,  and  had 
been  shovelled  down  into  their  grave  mould.  Choked  up, 
stifled,  made  dumb  for  ever,  all  those  breaking  hearts,  those 
bloody  mangled  limbs,  those  bitterly-weeping  eyes,  those  wild 
shrieks  of  despair,  those  vain  prayers. 

On  this  field  of  war  it  was  not  lonely.  There  were  many 
— very  many — whom  All  Souls'  Day  had  brought  hither,  from 
friends'  and  enemies*  country,  who  were  come  here  to  kneel 
down  on  the  ground  where  what  they  loved  most  had  fallen. 
The  train  itself  which  brought  us  was  full  of  other  mourners, 
and  thus  I  had  heard  now  for  several  hours  weeping  and  wailing 
going  on  around  me.  "  Three  sons — three  sons,  each  one  more 
beautiful  and  better  and  dearer  than  the  others,  have  I  lost  at 
Sadowa,**  said  to  us  an  old  man  who  looked  quite  broken  down. 
Many  others,  besides,  of  our  companions  in  the  carriage  mingled 
their  complaints  with  his — for  brother,  husband,  father.  But 
none  of  these  made  so  much  impression  on  me  as  the  tearless, 
mournful  *'  Three  sons — three  sons  "  of  the  poor  old  man. 

On  the  field  ODe  saw  on  all  sides,  and  on  all  the  roads,  black 
figures  walking,  or  kneeling,  or  painfully  staggering  along  and 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  333 

breaking  out  from  time  to  time  into  loud  sobs.  There  were 
only  a  few  there  who  were  buried  by  themselves — few  crosses 
or  stones  with  an  inscription.  We  bent  down  and  deciphered, 
as  well  as  the  twilight  permitted,  some  of  the  names. 

**  Major  V.  Reuss  of  the  Second  Regiment  of  the  Prussian 
Guards." 

"  Perhaps  a  relation  of  the  one  engaged  to  our  poor  Rosa," 
I  remarked. 

"  Count  Griinne.     Wounded,  July  3.     Died,  July  5." 

What  might  he  not  have  suffered  in  those  two  days !  Was 
he,  I  wondered,  a  son  of  the  Count  Grunne  who  uttered,  before 
the  war,  the  well-known  sentence :  "  We  are  going  to  chase  the 
Prussians  away — wet  foot "  ?  Ah,  how  frantic  and  blasphemous ! 
how  shrilly  out  of  tune  sounds  of  a  surety  every  word  of 
provocation  spoken  before  a  war  when  one  stands  on  a  place 
like  this  I  Words,  and  nothing  more,  boasting  words,  scornful 
words,  spoken,  written  and  printed ;  it  is  these  alone  that  have 
sown  the  seed  of  fields  like  these. 

We  walk  on.  Everywhere  earth  heaps,  more  or  less  high, 
more  or  less  broad,  and  even  there  where  the  earth  is  not 
elevated,  even  under  our  feet,  soldiers'  corpses  are  perhaps 
mouldering ! 

The  mist  grows  thicker  constantly.  "Frederick,  pray  put 
your  hat  on,  you  will  take  cold." 

But  Frederick  remained  uncovered,  and  I  did  not  repeat  my 
warning  a  second  time. 

Among  the  mourners  who  were  wandering  about  here  were 
also  many  officers  and  soldiers,  probably  such  as  had  themselves 
shared  in  the  nobly  contested  day  of  Koniggratz,  and  now 
were  making  a  pilgrimage  to  the  place  where  their  fallen 
comrades  were  sleeping. 

We  had  now  come  to  the  spot  where  the  largest  number  of 
warriors,  friend  and  foe  together,  lay  entombed.  The  place 
was  walled  off  like  a  churchyard.  Hither  came  the  greatest 
number  of  mourners,  because  in  this  spot  there  was  most 
chance  that  their  dear  ones  might  be  entombed.      Round 


334  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

this  enclosure  the  bereaved  ones  were  kneeling  and  sobbing, 
and  here  they  hung  up  their  crosses  and  their  grave-lights. 

A  tall,  slender  man,  of  distinguished,  youthful  figure,  in  a 
general's  cloak,  came  up  to  the  mound.  The  others  gave 
place  reverently  to  him,  and  I  heard  some  voices  whisper: 
**The  emperor*'. 

Yes,  it  was  Francis  Joseph.  It  was  the  lord  of  the  country, 
the  supreme  lord  of  war,  who  had  come  on  All  Souls'  Day  to 
offer  up  a  silent  prayer  for  the  dead  children  of  his  country, 
for  his  fallen  warriors.  He  also  stood  with  uncovered  and 
bowed  head  there^  in  agonised  devotion,  before  the  majesty 
of  Death. 

Long,  long  he  stood  without  moving.  I  could  not  turn  my 
eyes  away  from  him.  What  thoughts  must  be  passing  through 
his  soul,  what  feelings  through  his  heart,  which  after  all  was, 
as  I  knew,  a  good  and  a  soft  heart  ?  It  came  into  my  mind 
that  I  could  feel  with  him,  that  I  could  think  the  thoughts  at 
the  same  time  as  he,  which  were  passing  through  that  bowed 
head  of  his. 

You,  my  poor,  brave  fellows,  dead,  and  what  for  ?  No,  we 
have  not  conquered.  My  Venice— lost.  So  much  lost — ah, 
so  much !  and  your  young  lives  too.  And  you  gave  them  so 
devotedly— for  me.  Oh,  if  I  could  give  them  back  to  you  I 
I,  for  my  part,  never  desired  the  sacrifice ;  it  was  for  you,  for 
your  country,  that  you,  the  children  of  my  country,  were  led 
forth  to  this  war  I  And  not  by  my  means ;  no,  not  though  it 
was  at  my  order,  for  was  I  not  compelled  to  give  the  order  ? 
The  subjects  do  not  exist  for  my  sake.  No,  I  was  called  to 
the  throne  for  their  sakes,  and  any  hour  have  I  been  ready  to 
die  for  the  weal  of  my  people.  Oh,  had  I  followed  the  impulse 
of  my  heart,  and  never  said  "  Yes,"  when  all  around  me  were 
shouting  "  War ! "  **  War  !  "  Still,  could  I  have  resisted  them  ? 
God  is  my  witness  that  I  could  not.  What  impelled  me,  what 
forced  me,  at  this  moment,  I  do  not  know  exactly,  only  so 
much  I  know,  that  it  was  an  irresistible  pressure  from  with 
out,  from  yourselves,  ye  dead  soldiers  I     Oh,  how  mournful, 


L4Y  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  335 

moomfiil,  mouraful  1  How  I  have  suffered  for  it  all !  and  no^fi 
you  are  lying  here,  and  on  other  battlefields,  snatched  away  by 
grape-shot  and  sabre-cuts,  by  cholera  and  typhus  !  Oh,  if  I  had 
said  "Nol"     You  begged  me  to  do  so,  Elizabeth.     Oh,  if  I 

had  said  it !     The  thought  is  intolerable  that Oh,  it  is 

a  miserable,  imperfect  world — too  much,  too  much  of  woe  I 

During  the  whole  time  that  I  was  thinking  thus  for  him,  I 
fastened  my  eyes  on  his  features,  and  now — yes,  just  as  I  came 
to  "too  much — too  much  of  woe" — now  he  covered  his  face 
with  both  hands,  and  broke  out  into  a  hot  flood  of  tears. 

So  passed  All  Souls'  Day  on  the  battlefield  of  Sadowa. 


We  found  the  city  of  Berlin  in  the  height  of  jubilation. 
Every  counter-jumper  and  every  street-loafer  bore  on  his  coun- 
tenance a  certain  consciousness  of  victory.  "  We  have  given 
the  fellows  there  a  good  licking."  That  appears  anyhow  to 
be  a  very  elevating  feeling,  and  one  which  may  be  spread  over 
the  whole  population.  Still,  in  the  families  which  we  visited, 
we  found  many  people  deeply  cast  down,  those,  that  is  to  say, 
v/ho  had  one  never  to  be  forgotten  lying  dead  on  the  German 
or  Bohemian  battlefields.  For  my  own  part,  I  feared  most  the 
meeting  with  Aunt  Cornelia  again.  I  knew  that  her  handsome 
son  Godfrey  was  her  idol,  her  all,  and  I  could  judge  of  the  pang 
which  the  poor  bereaved  mother  must  now  be  experiencing.  I 
had  only  to  fancy  to  myself  that  my  Rudolf,  if  I  had  brought 
him  up  to  manhood — no,  that  thought  I  absolutely  refused  to 
think  out. 

Our  visit  was  announced.  With  a  beating  heart  I  entered 
Fr.  V.  Tessow's  house.  Even  in  the  ante-chamber,  the  mourning 
which  reigned  in  the  house  was  perceptible.  The  footman  who 
opened  the  door  for  us  wore  a  black  livery ;  in  the  great  recep- 
tion-room, the  chairs  of  which  were  covered  over  with  chair 
covers,  there  was  no  fire  lighted ;  and  the  mirrors  and  pictures 
on  the  walls  were  all  covered  with  crape.  From  hence,  the 
door  into  Aunt  Cornelia's  bedroom  was  opened  for  us,  and  she 


336  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

received  us  there.  It  was  a  very  large  room,  divided  into  two 
by  a  curtain,  behind  which  the  bed  stood ;  and  it  served  Aunt 
Cornelia  now  as  her  regular  reception-room.  She  no  longer 
quitted  the  house  at  all,  except  every  Sunday  to  go  to  the 
cathedral,  and  very  seldom  her  room,  except  for  one  hour 
every  day,  which  she  spent  in  what  had  been  Godfrey's  study. 
In  this  everything  was  left  standing  or  lying  as  he  had  left  it 
on  the  day  of  his  departure.  She  took  us  into  it,  in  the  course 
of  our  visit,  and  made  us  read  a  letter,  which  he  had  laid  on 
his  portfolio. 

"  My  own  dear  Mother, — I  know  well  that  you  will  come  here 
after  my  departure,  and  then  you  will  find  this  letter.  My  per- 
sonal departure  is  over.  So  much  the  more  will  it  please  and 
surprise  you  to  find  one  more  line,  to  hear  one  more  last  word 
from  me,  and  indeed  a  joyful,  hopeful  one.  Be  of  good  cheer. 
I  shall  come  back  again.  Two  hearts,  that  hang  together  so 
entirely  as  ours  do,  fate  will  not  tear  asunder.  I  have  settled 
that  I  am  now  going  to  serve  through  a  fortunate  campaign, 
gain  stars  and  crosses,  and  then  make  you  a  grandmother  six 
times  over.  I  kiss  your  hand,  I  kiss  your  dear  soft  forehead, 
O  you  most  adored  of  all  little  mothers." 

"  Your  Godfrey." 

When  we  went  into  Aunt  Cornelia's  room,  she  was  not  alone. 
A  gentleman  in  a  long  black  coat,  recognisable  at  the  first 
glance  as  a  clergyman,  was  sitting  opposite  to  her. 

She  got  up  and  came  to  meet  us.  The  clergyman  rose  at 
the  same  time  from  his  seat,  but  remained  standing  in  the 
background. 

What  I  expected  occurred.  When  I  embraced  the  old  lady 
both  of  us,  she  and  I,  broke  out  into  loud  sobs.  Frederick 
also  did  not  remain  dry-eyed  as  he  pressed  the  mourner  to  his 
heart  In  this  first  minute  no  word  at  all  was  spoken.  All 
that  one  can  say  at  such  a  moment,  at  one's  first  meeting  aftei 
a  severe  misfortune,  ii  sufficiently  expressed  by  tears. 


t 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  337 

She  led  us  back  to  the  place  where  they  were  sitting,  and 
pointed  us  to  chairs  that  stood  there.  Then,  after  drying  her 
eyes,  she  made  the  introduction. 

"  My  nephew,  Colonel  Baron  Tilling  —  Herr  Molser,  head 
miHtary  chaplain  and  consistorial  councillor." 

Silent  bows  were  exchanged. 

"  My  friend  and  spiritual  adviser,"  she  proceeded,  "  who  has 
allowed  me  to  lay  on  him  the  burden  of  instructing  me  in  my 
trouble." 

"  But  who  unfortunately  has  not  succeeded  in  instilling  into 
you  the  proper  resignation,  the  proper  joy  in  bearing  the  cross, 
my  valued  friend,"  said  he.  "  Why  is  it  that  I  have  always  to 
witness  a  fresh  outburst  of  these  very  foolish  tears  ?  " 

"  Oh,  forgive  me !  When  I  last  saw  my  nephew  with  his 
sweet  young  wife,  my  Godfrey  was  there." 

She  could  speak  no  further. 

"  Your  son  was  there,  in  this  sinful  world,  still  exposed  to  all 
temptations  and  dangers,  while  now  he  has  gone  into  the  bosom 
of  the  Father,  after  meeting  with  the  most  glorious  and  most 
blessed  of  deaths  for  king  and  country. 

''You,  colonel,"  turning  now  to  my  husband,  "who  have 
just  been  introduced  to  me  as  a  soldier,  can  assist  me  to  give 
to  this  afflicted  mother  the  consolation  that  her  son's  fate  is  an 
enviable  one.  You  must  know  what  delight  in  death  animates 
the  brave  warrior;  the  resolve  to  offer  his  life  as  a  sacrifice  on 
the  altar  of  his  country  glorifies  for  him  all  the  pain  of  depart- 
ing this  life ;  and,  though  he  sinks  in  the  storm  of  the  battle 
amidst  the  thunder  of  the  artillery,  yet  he  expects  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  great  army  on  high,  and  to  be  present  when  the 
Lord  of  Sabaoth  holds  muster  above.  You,  colonel,  have 
comeback  in  the  number  of  those  to  whom  Divine  Providence 
has  granted  a  righteous  victory." 

"  Forgive  me,  reverend  consistorial  councillor,  I  was  in  the 
Austrian  service." 

"  Oh,  I  thought Oh,  really,"  replied  the  other  quite 

confused.     "  A  grand,  brave  army  too  is  the  Austrian."     He 

22 


338  LAY   DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

rose.  "  But  I  will  not  intrude  longer.  You  will  be  wishing, 
doubtless,  to  talk  of  family  matters.  Farewell,  dear  lady;  in  a 
few  days  I  will  come  again.  Till  then,  raise  your  thoughts  to 
the  All-merciful,  without  whose  will  not  a  hair  falls  from  our 
heads,  and  who  causes  all  things  to  serve  for  the  good  of  those 
that  love  Him  —  even  sorrow  and  suffering,  even  privation  and 
death.     I  salute  you  with  all  devotion." 

My  aunt  shook  his  hand. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  see  you  soon.     Very  soon,  pray." 

He  bowed  to  us  all,  and  was  stepping  towards  the  door 
when  Frederick  detained  him. 

"  Reverend  consistorial  councillor,  may  I  ask  you  a  favour?  " 

"  Pray,  tell  me  what  it  is,  colonel  ?  " 

"  I  conclude  from  your  conversation  that  you  are  penetrated 
equally  by  the  reHgious  and  the  military  spirit.  In  that  case 
you  might  do  me  a  great  pleasure." 

I  listened  with  interest.     What  could  Frederick  mean  ? 

*'  The  fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  that  my  little  wife  here  is  full 
of  scruples  and  doubts  of  all  sorts.  Her  opinion  is  that,  from 
a  Christian  point  of  view,  war  is  not  quite  permissible.  I,  of 
course,  know  to  the  contrary,  for  there  is  no  alliance  closer 
than  that  between  the  professions  of  priest  and  soldier,  but  I 
have  not  the  eloquence  to  make  this  clear  to  my  wife.  Would 
you  then,  reverend  consistorial  councillor,  so  far  favour  us  as  to 
give  us,  to-morrow  or  next  day,  an  hour  of  your  conversation, 
with  the  view " 

'*  Oh,  with  great  pleasure,"  the  clergyman  said,  interrupting 
him.     "  Will  you  give  me  your  address  ?  " 

Frederick  gave  him  his  card,  and  the  day  and  hour  of  the 
visit  he  asked  for  were  fixed  at  once.  Then  we  remained  alone 
with  our  aunt. 

"  Does  your  intercourse  with  this  friend  really  afford  you 
consolation  ?  "  asked  Frederick. 

"  Consolation  ?  There  is  no  consolation  for  me  any  more 
here  below.  But  he  speaks  so  much  and  so  beautifully  about 
the  things  which  I  like  most  to  hear  of — about  death  and 


L4T   DOWN    YOUR   AAMS.  339 

mourring,  about  the  cross  and  sacrifice  and  resignation — he 
paints  the  world  which  my  poor  Godfrey  had  to  leave,  and 
from  which  I  long  to  be  released,  as  such  a  vale  of  misery,  of 
corruption,  of  sin,  and  of  advancing  ruin.  .  .  .  And  so  it  seems 
to  me  a  little  less  mournful  that  my  child  has  been  called  away. 
He  is  assuredly  in  heaven,  and  here  on  this  earth " 

**The  powers  of  hell  often  prevail.  That  is  true.  I  have 
again  seen  proof  of  that  close  to  me,"  replied  Frederick 
thoughtfully. 

The  poor  lady  next  questioned  him  about  the  two  campaigns 
that  he  had  passed  through — the  one  with,  the  other  against, 
Godfrey.  He  had  to  relate  hundreds  of  details,  and  in  doing 
so  he  was  able  to  give  the  bereaved  mother  the  same  comfort 
that  he  once  brought  me  back  from  the  war  in  Italy,  namely, 
that  the  lamented  one  had  died  a  rapid  and  painless  death.  It 
was  a  long  and  a  mournful  visit.  I  also  agam  recounted  there 
all  the  details  of  the  horrible  cholera  week,  and  my  experiences 
on  the  Bohemian  battlefields.  Before  we  left.  Aunt  Cornelia 
took  us  into  Godfrey's  room,  where  I  wept  bitter  tears  anew  at 
the  perusal  of  the  letter  which  I  have  quoted  above,  and  o( 
which  at  a  later  period  I  begged  a  copy. 


"  Now  explain  to  me,"  I  said  to  Frederick,  as  we  got  into  our 
carriage,  which  was  in  waiting  in  front  of  Aunt  Cornelia's  villa, 
**  why  you  asked  the  consistorial  councillor " 

"To  a  conference  with  you?  Do  not  you  understand? 
That  is  to  serve  me  as  material  for  study.  I  want  to  hear  once 
more — and  this  time  to  take  note  of — the  arguments  by  which 
priests  defend  public  murder.  I  put  you  forward  as  the  leader 
in  the  fray.  It  better  becomes  a  young  lady  to  nourish  a  doubt 
from  the  Christian  point  of  view  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  war  than 
a  'gallant  coloneri" 

"  But  you  know  that  my  doubt  is  not  from  a  religious,  but  a 
humanitarian  point  of  view." 

•*We  must  not  lay  this  at  all  before  the  reverend  consistonai 


340  LAY  DOWN  TOUft  AMMM, 

councillor,  or  else  the  discussion  would  be  transferred  to  a 

different  field.  The  efforts  after  peace  of  free  thinkers  suffer 
from  no  internal  inconsistency,  but  it  is  this  very  inconsistency 
existing  between  the  maxims  of  Christianity  and  the  orders  of 
military  authorities  which  I  should  like  to  hear  explained  by  a 
military  chaplain,  i.e,,  a  representative  of  militant  Christianity." 

The  clergyman  was  punctual  in  his  arrival.  The  prospect 
was  evidently  an  inviting  one  for  him  of  having  to  preach  a 
sermon  of  instruction  and  conversion.  I  on  the  contrary  looked 
forward  to  the  conversation  with  somewhat  painful  feelings,  for 
the  part  assigned  to  me  in  it  was  a  dishonest  one.  But,  for 
the  good  of  the  cause  to  which  Frederick  had  devoted  his 
services  henceforth,  I  was  easily  able  to  put  some  constraint 
on  myself,  and  comfort  myself  with  the  proverb :  "  The  end 
justifies  the  means". 

After  the  first  greetings — we  were  all  three  seated  on  low, 
easy-chairs  before  the  fire — the  consistorial  councillor  began 
thus : — 

"  Allow  me,  dear  lady,  to  enter  on  the  object  of  my  visit. 
The  matter  is  to  remove  from  your  soul  some  scruples,  which 
are  not  destitute  of  some,  apparent  grounds,  but  which  can 
easily  be  refuted  as  sophistical.  You  think,  for  example,  that 
Christ's  command  to  love  your  enemies,  and  also  the  text, 
*He  who  takes  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the  sword,*  are 
inconsistent  with  the  duties  of  a  soldier,  who  no  doubt  is 
empowered  to  injure  the  enemy  in  body  and  life." 

"  Certainly,  reverend  councillor,  this  inconsistency  seems  to 
me  irreconcilable.  Then  there  occurs  also  the  express  com- 
mand of  the  Decalogue,  *  Thou  shalt  not  kill '." 

"  Oh,  yes,  to  a  superficial  judgment  there  is  some  difficulty 
in  that,  but  on  penetrating  deeper  all  doubt  vanishes.  As 
regards  the  fifth  commandment,  it  would  be  more  correctly 
given  (as  it  is  actually  in  the  English  version  of  the  Bible) : 
*Thou  shalt  not  murder*.  Killing  for  necessary  defence  is 
not  murder.  And  war  is  in  reality  only  necessary  defence  on  a 
large  scale.     We  can  and  we  ought,  following  the  gentle  precept 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  34 1 

of  our  Saviour,  to  love  our  enemies,  but  that  does  not  mean 
that  we  are  not  to  venture  to  defend  ourselves  from  open  wrong 
and  violence." 

"  Then  does  it  not  follow  of  course  from  this  that  only 
defensive  wars  are  justifiable,  and  that  no  sword-stroke  ought  to 
be  given  till  the  enemy  has  invaded  the  country  ?  But  if  the 
opposing  nation  proceeds  on  the  same  principle,  how  then  can 
the  battle  ever  begin?  In  the  late  war  it  was  your  army, 
reverend  councillor,  which  first  crossed  the  frontier, 
and *' 

"  If  one  wishes  to  keep  the  foe  off,  dear  lady,  as  we  have  the 
most  sacred  right  to  do,  it  is  utterly  unnecessary  to  put  off  the 
favourable  opportunity,  and  to  wait  until  he  has  first  invaded 
one's  country.  On  the  contrary,  the  sovereign  must,  under  all 
circumstances,  have  freedom  to  anticipate  the  violent  and 
unjust.  In  doing  so  he  is  following  the  written  word :  *  He 
who  takes  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the  sword '.  He  presents 
himself  as  God's  servant  and  avenger  on  the  enemy,  because  he 
strives  to  make  him,  as  he  has  taken  the  sword  against  him, 
perish  by  the  sword." 

"  There  must  be  some  fallacy  in  that,"  I  said,  shaking  my 
head.  '*  It  is  impossible  that  these  principles  should  justify 
both  parties  equally." 

"  And  as  to  the  further  scruple,"  pursued  the  clergyman, 
without  noticing  my  remark,  **  that  war  is  of  and  by  itself  dis- 
pleasing to  God,  this  must  depart  from  every  Christian  who 
believes  in  the  Bible,  for  the  Holy  Scriptures  sufl5ciently  prove 
that  the  Lord  Himself  gave  commands  to  the  people  of  Israel  to 
wage  wars,  in  order  to  conquer  the  promised  land,  and  He 
granted  them  victory  and  His  blessing  on  their  wars.  In 
Numbers  xxi.  14,  a  special  *  book  of  the  wars  of  the  Lord'  is 
spoken  of.  And  how  often  in  the  Psalms  is  the  assistance 
celebrated  which  God  has  granted  to  His  people  in  war !  Do 
you  not  know  what  Solomon  says  (Proverbs  xxi.  31):  'The 
horse  is  prepared  against  the  day  of  battle,  but  safety  is  of 
the  Lord'?    Iq  Psalm  cxliv.   David  thanks  and  praises  the 


34^  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

Lord,  his  strength,  'who  teacheth  his  hand  to  war.  and  hit 
fingers  to  fight '." 

"Then  a  contradiction  prevails  between  the  Old  and  the 
New  Testament — the  God  of  the  ancient  Hebrews  was  a  warlike 
Deity,  but  the  gentle  Jesus  proclaimed  the  message  of  peace, 
and  taught  love  to  neighbour  and  to  enemy/' 

**  In  Uie  New  Testament  also,  Jesus  speaks  in  a  figure  (Luke 
jdw,  31)  without  the  least  blame  of  a  king  who  is  going  to  make 
war  against  another  king.  And  how  often,  too,  does  not  the 
Apostle  Paul  use  figures  from  the  military  life?  He  says 
(Rom.  xiiL  4)  that  the  magistrate  does  not  bear  the  sword  in 
vain,  but  ii  God's  servant — ^a  revenger  on  him  that  doeth 
evil." 

"  Well,  then,  in  that  case  the  contradiction  I  mean  exists  in 
the  Holy  Scripture  itself.  By  your  showing  me  that  it  is  present 
in  the  Bible  you  do  not  remove  it" 

"  There  one  sees  the  superficial  and  at  the  same  time  arrogant 
method  of  judgment  which  seeks  to  exalt  one's  own  weak  reason 
above  the  Word  of  God.  Contradiction  is  something  imperfect, 
ungodlike ;  and  if  I  show  that  a  thing  is  in  the  Bible  the  proof 
is  complete  that  in  itself — however  incomprehensible  it  may  be 
to  the  human  understanding — ^it  can  contain  no  contradiction." 

"  Unless  the  presence  of  contradiction  does  not  much  rather 
prove  that  the  passages  in  question  cannot  possibly  be  of  Divine 
origin."  This  answer  trembled  on  my  lips,  but  I  suppressed  it, 
in  order  not  to  change  entirely  the  object  of  the  discussion. 

"Look  here,  reverend  councillor,"  said  Frederick,  now 
mingling  in  the  conversation,  ''a  chief  captain  of  artillery  in 
the  seventeenth  century  has  laid  down  much  more  forcibly  than 
you  have  done  the  justifiability  of  the  horrors  of  war  by  an 
appeal  to  the  Bible.  I  extracted  the  passage  and  have  read  it 
to  my  wife,  but  she  did  not  sympathise  with  the  spirit  expressed 
in  it  I  confess  the  thing  seems  to  me — ^well,  a  little  strong — 
and  I  should  like  to  hear  your  view  about  it.  If  you  will  allow 
me  I  will  fetch  the  paper."  So  he  took  a  sheet  of  paper  out  of 
a  Oraweri  upifolded  it,  and  read : — 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS,  343 

War  w«s  invented  by  God  Himself  and  taught  to  men.  God  posted 
the  first  soldier  with  a  two-edged  sword  in  front  of  Paradise,  to  keep  out 
of  it  Adam,  the  first  rebel  You  may  read  in  Deuteronomy  how  God,  by 
means  of  Moses,  gives  people  encouragement  to  victory  and  even  gives 
them  His  priests  for  advanced  guard. 

The  first  stratagem  was  practised  at  the  city  of  AL  In  this  war  of  the 
Jews  the  sun  had  to  stand  and  show  light  in  the  firmament  for  two  whole 
days  together  in  order  that  the  war  and  the  victory  might  be  followed  up, 
and  many  thousands  put  to  the  sword  and  their  kings  hung  up.  All  the 
horrors  of  war  are  permitted  by  God,  for  the  whole  of  Holy  Writ  is  full 
of  them,  and  proves  satisfactorily  that  regular  war  is  an  invention  of  God 
Himself,  and  that  therefore  every  man  can  with  a  clear  conscience  serve 
in  it,  and  can  live  and  die  in  it.  He  is  permitted  to  bum  his  enemy,  or 
brand  him,  flay  him,  shoot  him  down,  or  hack  him  to  pieces.  All  this  is 
just,  let  others  judge  as  they  please  about  it.  God  in  these  passages  has 
forbidden  nothing,  but  has  permitted  the  most  horrible  ways  of  destroying 
men. 

The  prophetess  Deborah  nailed  the  head  of  Sisera,  the  leader  in  that 
war,  to  the  earth.  Gideon,  chosen  by  God  as  the  leader  of  the  people, 
revenged  himself  on  the  princes  of  Succoth,  who  had  refused  him  some 
provisions,  like  a  soldier;  sword  and  fire  were  too  poor,  they  were 
thrashed  and  torn  in  pieces  with  thorns ;  and,  as  before,  this  was  righteous 
in  the  sight  of  God.  The  royal  prophet  David,  a  man  after  God's  own 
heart,  invented  the  most  cruel  tortures  for  the  vanquished  children  of 
Ammon  at  Rabboth — he  had  them  hewed  with  sabres,  caused  chariots  to 
drive  over  them,  cut  them  with  knives,  and  dragged  them  through  the 
places  where  they  made  the  bricks,  and  so  did  he  in  all  the  towns  of  the 
children  of  Ammon.    Besides  this 

"That  18  horrible,  abominable  I "  broke  in  the  chief  chaplain. 
"  It  could  only  be  a  rough  soldier  of  the  savage  times  of  the 
Thirty  Years*  War  to  whom  it  would  appear  natural  to  produce 
examples  like  these  out  of  the  Bible,  in  order  to  found  thereon 
a  justification  for  their  cruelties  against  the  enemy.  We  preach 
quite  other  doctrine  now — nothing  more  is  to  be  striven  for  in 
war  than  to  make  your  adversary  incapable  of  harm — even  up 
to  his  death — but  without  any  evil  design  against  the  life  of  any 
individual.  If  any  such  design  enters  in,  or  even  any  murderous 
desire  or  any  cruelty  against  those  who  are  defenceless,  in  sudi 
1  case  killing  in  war  is  exactly  as  immoral  and  as  impermissible 
■•  iD  peace*    No  doubt  in  past  centuries,  when  the  adventurous 


344  LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS. 

delight  in  feud  and  quarrel  prevailed,  when  leaders  of  Lands- 
knechts  and  vagrant  persons  carried  on  war  as  a  trade,  in  such 
times  an  artillery  captain  might  write  in  that  style;  but  in 
the  present  day  armies  are  not  put  into  the  field  for  gold 
and  booty,  not  without  knowing  for  whom  or  for  what,  but 
for  the  highest  ideal  objects  of  mankind — for  freedom, 
independence,  nationality ;  for  justice,  faith,  honour,  purity  and 
morality -" 

"  You,  reverend  consistorial  councillor,"  I  interposed,  "are  at 
least  milder  and  more  humane  than  the  artillery  captain.  And 
thus  you  have  no  proofs  out  of  the  Bible  to  allege  for  the  law- 
fulness of  cruelty,  in  which  our  forefathers  of  the  middle  ages, 
and  presumably  also  the  ancient  Hebrews,  took  a  pleasure ;  and 
yet  it  is  the  same  book,  and  the  same  Jehovah,  and  He  cannot 
have  become  milder — and  everybody  still  gets  from  Him  as  much 
support  as  suits   his  views." 

On  this  I  received  a  slight  sermon  of  rebuke  for  my  want  of 
reverence  for  the  Word  of  God,  and  for  my  want  of  judgment 
in  reading  it. 

Still  I  succeeded  in  leading  the  conversation  back  again  to 
our  especial  subject;  and  now  the  consistorial  councillor 
launched  out  into  a  long  dissertation,  and  one  which  this  time 
was  allowed  to  be  uninterrupted,  about  the  connection  between 
the  military  and  Christian  spirits;  he  spoke  of  the  religious 
devotion  "  which  is  indwelling  in  the  oath  to  the  standard,  when 
the  colours  are  carried  solemnly,  with  the  accompaniment  of 
music,  into  the  church,  with  the  guard  of  honour  of  two  officers 
with  dravm  swords ;  and  there  the  recruit  marches  out  for  the 
first  time  in  public  with  helmet  and  side-arms,  and  for  the  first 
time  follows  the  colours  of  his  company,  unfolded  now  before 
the  altar  of  the  Lord  torn  as  they  are  and  stained  with  the 
honourable  marks  of  the  battles  in  which  they  have  been 
carried".  He  spoke  of  the  prayer  offered  every  Sunday  in 
church  :  "  Preserve  the  royal  commander  of  the  army,  and  all 
true  servants  of  their  king  and  country.  Teach  them  as  Chris- 
tians to  think  of  their  end,  and  grant  that  their  service  may  b« 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   A&MS.  345 

blessed,  to  the  honour  and  the  good  of  the  country."  "  God  with 
us,"  he  went  on,  "is,  as  you  know,  the  motto  on  the  belt-buckle 
with  which  the  foot-soldier  buckles  on  his  side-arms,  and  this 
watchword  should  give  him  confidence.  If  God  be  with  us, 
who  can  be  against  us  ?  Then  there  are  also  the  universal  days 
of  pubhc  prayer  and  humiliation  which  are  ordered  at  the 
commencement  of  a  war  that  the  people  may  beg  for  God's 
help  in  prayer,  both  in  the  comfortable  hope  of  His  support  and 
in  the  confidence  through  that  support  of  gaining  a  victorious 
termination.  What  devotion  does  there  not  lie  in  this  for  the 
departing  warrior  I  How  mightily  does  this  exalt  his  delight  in 
battle  and  in  death  !  He  can  with  comfort  enter  into  the  ranks 
of  the  warriors  when  his  king  calls  for  him,  and  can  reckon  on 
victory  and  blessing  for  the  cause  of  right.  God  the  Lord  will 
no  more  deprive  our  people  of  this  than  His  people  Israel  of 
old,  if  only  it  is  with  prayers  to  Him  that  we  carry  on  the  work 
of  battle.  The  intimate  alliance  between  prayer  and  victory, 
between  piety  and  valour,  easily  follows — for  what  can  more 
assure  one  of  joy  in  the  prospect  of  death  than  the  confi- 
dence that  if  our  last  hour  should  strike  in  the  confusion 
of  the  battle  we  shall  find  favour  at  the  hands  of  the  Judge 
in  heaven?  Fidelity  and  faith,  in  union  with  manliness 
and  warlike  virtue,  belong  to  the  oldest  traditions  of  our 
people." 

He  went  on  in  this  tone  for  a  long  time  more — now  with 
oily  mildness,  with  sunken  head,  in  the  softest  tones  speaking 
of  love,  humility,  "little  children,"  salvation,  and  "precious 
things " — now  with  military  voice  of  command,  with  a  proud, 
erect  attitude,  talking  of  strict  morals  and  stern  discipline- 
sharp  and  cutting — of  sword  and  shield.  The  word  "joy 
was  never  osed  otherwise  than  in  composition  with  deaths 
battle,  and  dying.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  army 
chaplain,  to  kill  and  to  be  killed  seemed  to  be  the  most 
exquisite  delights  in  life.  Everything  else  is  exhausting, 
sinful  pleasure.  Verses,  too,  were  recited.  First  this  of 
Koroer :— 


349  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS, 

Father,  do  Thou  guide  me  I 

Guide  me  to  victory — guide  me  to  death  I 

Lord,  I  confess  Thy  command. 

Lord,  as  Thou  wiliest,  so  guide  me  i 

God,  I  confess  Thee. 

Then  the  old  popular  song  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  *— 

No  happier  death  on  earth  can  be 

Than  one  good  stroke  from  mortal  foe. 
On  fresh  green  turf^  in  breezes  free — 
No  woman's  tears,  no  cries  of  woe : 
No  grim  deathbed,  whence,  lone  and  slow, 
From  life's  gay  scene  your  soul  must  go. 
Like  swathes  of  grass,  in  lusty  row, 
'Mid  shouting  friends.  Death  lays  you  low. 

And  then  the  song  by  Lenau  of  the  war-loving  armourer  :— 

Peace  steals  on,  and,  mining  slowly. 

Saps  our  vigour,  dims  our  story. 
While  she  boasts  her  ♦•  influence  holy," 

Cobwebs  gather  o'er  our  glory. 
Hark  I  then  sounds  War's  joyous  rattle. 
Wounds  may  yawn,  blood  flow,  in  battle  I 
We  need  yawn  in  sloth  no  longer, 
War's  pruning  makes  mankind  the  strongei. 

And,  to  conclude,  the  saying  of  Luther : — 

"  When  I  look  at  war  as  a  thing  that  protects  wife,  child, 
house,  land,  goods,  and  honour — and  in  doing  so  gains  peace 
and  secures  it — in  that  view  war  is  a  right  precious  thing  **. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  if  I  look  at  the  panther  as  a  dove,  in  that  case 
the  panther  is  a  very  gentle  beast,"  I  remarked  unheard. 

The  military  chaplain  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  disturbed 
in  his  flow  of  eloquence ;  and,  when  he  ended  and  took  leave, 
I  found  myself  with  two  convictions :  that  war  from  the 
Christian  point  of  view  is  a  justifiable,  and  in  and  by  itself  is 
a  precious,  thing.  It  was  visibly  a  very  agreeable  thing  to  him 
to  have,  by  means  of  this  rhetorical  victory,  both  fulfilled  the 
duty  of  his  profession,  and  in  doing  so  rendered  a  considerable 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMt.  347 

senrice  to  the  foreign  colond ;  for,  as  he  rose  to  go,  and  we 
expressed  to  him  our  thanks  for  the  trouble  he  had  been  so 
good  as  to  undertake,  he  deprecatingly  rejoined : — 

"  It  is  for  me  to  thank  you  for  having  given  me  an  opportu- 
nity of  chasing  away  your  doubts  through  my  feeble  word 
(whose  entire  efficacy  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Word  of  God, 
which  I  have  so  often  quoted),  doubts  which  are  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  bring  nothing  but  pain  to  a  person  who  is  not 
only  a  Christian  but  a  soldier's  wife.     Peace  be  with  you." 

"  Oh,"  I  groaned,  when  he  was  gone,  "  that  was  a  torture  I  *' 

"Yes,"  said  Frederick;  "it  was.  Our  want  of  straightfor- 
wardness especially  was  uncomfortable  to  me,  and  particularly 
the  false  premises  under  which  we  got  him  to  display  his 
eloquence.  At  one  moment  I  was  on  the  point  of  saying  to 
him:  *Stop,  reverend  sir,  I  myself  entertain  the  same  views 
against  war  as  my  wife,  and  what  you  are  saying  only  serves,  as 
far  as  I  am  concerned,  to  enable  me  to  see  more  clearly  the 
weakness  of  your  arguments  *.  But  I  held  my  tongue.  Why 
interfere  with  an  honest  man's  conviction — a  conviction  which 
is  besides  the  foundation  of  his  profession  in  life  ?  " 

"Conviction?  Are  you  certain  of  that?  Does  he  really 
believe  that  he  is  speaking  the  truth,  or  does  he  purposely 
deceive  his  common  soldiers,  when  he  promises  them  an 
assured  victory  through  the  assistance  of  a  God  of  whom  he 
nevertheless  must  know  this — that  He  is  invoked  in  exactly  the 
same  way  by  the  enemy  ?  These  appeals  to  *  our  people '  and 
to  'our  cause'  as  the  only  righteous  one,  and  one  which  is 
God's  cause  too,  were  surely  only  possible  at  a  time  when  one 
people  shut  out  all  other  peoples,  and  considered  itself  as  the 
only  one  entitled  to  exist — the  only  one  beloved  of  God.  And 
then  all  these  promises  of  heaven,  with  the  view  of  more  easily 
procuring  the  sacrifice  of  earthly  life,  all  these  ceremonies, 
consecrations,  oaths,  hymns  which  are  intended  to  awaken  in 
the  breast  of  the  man  ordered  into  war  that  '  joy  in  death ' 
(repulsive  words  to  me  1)  which  they  so  admire ;  is  it  not         " 

"  Everything  has  two  sides,  Martha,"  said  Frederick  intemipl 


348  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

ing  me.  "  It  is  because  we  deprecate  war  that  everything  which 
supports  and  excuses  it,  everything  which  veils  its  horrors, 
appears  hateful  to  us." 

"  Yes,  of  course ;  because  the  hateful  thing  is  upheld  thereby." 
"  But  not  thereby  only.  All  institutions  stand  on  roots  of 
a  thousand  fibres,  and  as  long  as  they  exist  it  must  be  a  good 
thing  that  those  feelings  and  methods  of  thought  should  persist 
by  which  they  are  excused,  by  which  they  are  rendered  not  only 
tolerable,  but  even  beloved.  How  many  a  poor  fellow  is  helped 
through  his  death-agony  by  that  same  *  joy  in  death  *  into  which 
he  has  been  educated !  how  many  a  pious  soul  relies  in  all 
confidence  on  the  help  of  God  of  which  he  has  been  assured 
by  the  preacher  !  how  much  innocent  vanity  and  proud  feeling 
of  honour  are  awakened  and  satisfied  by  those  ceremonies !  how 
many  hearts  beat  higher  at  the  sound  of  those  hymns !  From 
the  total  of  the  pain  which  war  has  brought  on  men,  we  must 
at  least  deduct  that  pain  which  war  poets  and  war  preachers 
have  contrived  to  sing  away  and  lie  away.'* 


We  were  summoned  away  from  Berlin  very  hurriedly.  A 
telegram  announced  to  me  that  Aunt  Mary  was  very  ill  and 
wished  to  see  me. 

I  found  the  old  lady  given  up  by  her  physicians. 

"  It  is  my  turn  now,"  she  said.  "  For  my  own  part  I  am 
right  willing  to  go.  Since  my  poor  brother  and  the  three 
children  were  snatched  away,  this  world  has  had  no  more  joy 
for  me.  Apart  from  anything  else,  I  shall  never  more  have  the 
strength  to  bear  up  after  such  a  blow.  I  shall  find  the  others 
there  above.  Conrad  and  Lilly  are  also  united  there;  it  was 
not  ordained  that  they  should  be  united  here  on  earth." 

"  If  they  had  finished  their  arrangements  in  proper  time  .  .  ," 
I  was  disposed  to  say  in  opposition,  but  I  stopped  myself.  I 
could  not  surely  raise  any  discussion  with  this  dying  person, 
and  still  less  try  to  unsettle  her  about  her  favourite  theory  o/ 
"  pre-ordination  ". 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  349 

"I  have  one  comfort,"  she  went  on,  "that  you  at  least,  deal 
Martha,  remain  behind  happy;  the  cholera  has  spared  you, 
and  that  proves  clearly  that  it  is  ordained  for  you  to  grow  old 
in  company.  Only  try  to  make  of  your  little  Rudolf  a  good 
Christian  and  a  good  soldier,  so  that  his  grandfather  up  in 
heaven  may  still  find  his  joy  in  him." 

Even  on  this  point  I  preferred  to  keep  silence,  for  I  was 
firmly  resolved  to  make  no  soldier  of  my  son. 

"  I  will  pray  for  you  incessantly,  so  that  you  may  live  long 
and  happily." 

Of  course  I  did  not  dwell  on  the  inconsistency  that  an  "  in- 
evitable destiny  "  could  be  influenced  in  one's  favour  by  inces- 
sant prayer ;  but  I  interrupted  the  poor  creature  by  begging  her 
not  to  exhaust  herself  with  talking,  and,  in  order  to  distract  her 
attention,  told  her  about  our  doings  in  Switzerland  and  Berlin. 
I  also  related  how  we  met  Prince  Henry,  and  that  he  had 
caused  to  be  erected  in  the  park  of  his  castle  a  marble  monu- 
ment in  memory  of  the  bride  whom  he  had  lost  as  soon  as  won. 

Three  days  afterwards  poor  Aunt  Mary  fell  asleep,  resigned 
and  calm,  fortified  with  the  sacrament  for  the  dying,  which  she 
had  herself  begged  for  and  which  she  received  with  devotion ; 
and  thus  were  all  my  relations  gone  from  the  earth,  all  those  in 
whose  midst  I  had  been  brought  iip. 

In  her  will  the  entire  inheritance  of  her  little  fortune  was  left 
to  my  son  Rudolf,  and  as  his  trustee  Minister  "  To-be-sure " 
was  nominated. 

This  circumstance  brought  me  now  into  frequent  contact 
with  this  old  friend  of  my  father.  He  was  also  pretty  nearly 
the  only  visitor  at  our  house.  The  deep  mourning  into  which 
the  unhappy  week  at  Grumitz  had  plunged  me  caused  me  as  a 
matter  of  course  to  live  in  perfect  retirement.  Our  plan  of 
settling  in  Paris  could  not  be  carried  out  till  all  my  affairs  were 
put  in  order,  and  in  any  case  several  months  more  would  be 
necessary  for  that. 

Our  fi-iend  the  Minister,  who,  as  I  have  said,  formed  almost 
the  whole  of  our  society,  had  in  these  latter  days  either  received 


350  I^T  DOWN  TOUR  A&Mft. 

or  obtained  his  discharge — I  never  quite  fiithomed  the  matter- 
but  in  short  he  had  withdrawn  into  private  life,  but  he  was  still 
as  fond  as  ever  of  busying  himself  about  politics.  He  continu- 
ally contrived  to  turn  the  conversation  on  to  this  his  favourite 
theme,  and  we  also  willingly  took  our  share  in  it.  As  Frederick 
was  now  occupying  himself  so  busily  with  the  study  of  inter- 
national law,  any  discussion  was  welcome  to  him  which  touched 
on  this  province.  After  dinner  (Mr.  "  To-be-sure  " — for  we  always 
between  ourselves  made  use  of  this  nickname  for  him — was 
always  asked  to  dine  at  our  house  twice  a  week)  the  two  gentle- 
men would  plunge  into  a  long  political  conversation ;  but  in 
doing  this  my  husband  took  care  not  to  let  this  conversation 
turn  into  the  political  gossip  which  he  so  hated,  but  was  careful 
to  lead  it  to  views  of  more  general  interest.  In  this,  to  be  sure, 
Mr.  "To-be-sure"  could  not  always  follow  him,  for  in  his  character 
as  an  inveterate  diplomatist  and  official  he  had  accustomed  him- 
self to  follow  what  is  called  "  practical  politics  " — a  thing  which 
is  directed  merely  to  the  private  interests  which  lie  nearest  to 
hand  and  knows  nothing  about  the  theoretical  questions  of  social 
science. 

I  sat  by,  busy  over  some  needlework,  and  took  no  share  in 
the  conversation — a  thing  which  seemed  quite  natural  to  the 
Minister ;  for  politics  is,  as  is  well  known,  far  "  too  high  a  thing  " 
for  ladies  ;  he  was  sure  that  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  other 
things,  whilst  I,  on  the  contrary,  was  listening  very  attentively, 
since  it  was  my  business  to  impress  the  tenor  of  this  dialogue 
on  my  memory,  in  order  to  transfer  it  afterwards  into  the  red 
book.  Frederick  made  no  secret  of  his  opinions,  though  he 
knew  what  a  thankless  part  it  is  to  set  oneself  to  oppose  what 
is  generally  received,  and  to  defend  ideas  whilst  they  are  in  the 
stage  when — even  if  they  are  not  condemned  as  subversive — 
still  they  are  derided  as  fantastic. 

"I  am  in  a  position  to-day  to  communicate  to  you  an 
interesting  piece  of  news,  dear  Tilling,"  said  the  Minister  one 
afternoon  with  an  air  of  importance.  "  People  in  government 
circles — that  is  to  say,  in  the  ministry  of  war — are  ventilating 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMB.  35 1 

the  idea  of  introducing  t  oniversal  liability  to  lervice 
amongst  us  also." 

"What?  the  same  system  which  before  the  war  was  so 
universally  condemned  and  derided  among  us?  *  Tailors  in 
arms/  and  so  on?" 

"To  be  sure  we  had  a  prejudice  against  it  a  short  time 
since.  Still,  it  has  rendered  good  service  to  the  Prussians 
you  must  allow.  And,  in  feet,  from  the  moral  point  of  view, 
and  even  from  the  democratic  and  liberal  point  of  view,  for 
which  you  occasionally  appear  so  enthusiastic,  it  is  surely  a 
just  and  elevating  thing  that  every  son  of  his  fatherland, 
without  any  regard  to  his  position  or  stage  of  education,  should 
have  to  fulfil  the  same  duties.  And  from  a  strategic  point  of 
view,  could  little  Prussia  have  been  always  victorious  if  she 
had  not  had  the  Landwehr;  and  if  the  latter  had  been 
introduced  amongst  us  before,  should  we  have  been  always 
beaten  ?  " 

"Well,  the  meaning  of  that  is,  that  if  we  had  had  more 
material,  the  material  which  our  enemy  had  would  not  have 
served  him.  Ergo — if  the  Landwehr  were  introduced  every- 
where it  would  not  benefit  anybody.  The  war  game  would  be 
played  with  more  pieces,  but  the  game  nevertheless  depends 
still  on  the  luck  and  the  ability  of  the  players.  I  will  suppose 
that  all  the  European  powers  have  introduced  the  obligation 
of  universal  defence;  the  proportion  of  forces  in  that  case 
remains  exactly  the  same,  the  only  difference  would  be  that,  in 
order  to  come  to  a  decision,  instead  of  hundreds  of  thousands, 
millions  would  have  to  be  slaughtered." 

"  But  do  you  think  it  just  and  fair  that  a  part  only  of  the 
population  should  sacrifice  themselves  in  order  to  protect  the 
dearest  possessions  of  the  others,  and  that  these  others,  chiefly 
because  they  are  rich,  should  be  entitled  to  stop  quietly  at 
home?  No,  no;  that  will  cease  with  this  new  law.  Then 
there  will  be  no  more  buying-ofi'--every  one  will  have  to  take 
his  iMit.   And  it  is  especially  the  educated — the  studentt-rthote 


35>  I^Y   DOWN    YOUR    ARMt. 

who  have  some  learning,  who  will  contribute  the  elements  of 
intelligence  and  therefore  of  victory." 

"  The  other  side  has  the  same  elements  ready  to  hand,  and 
so  the  advantages  to  be  gained  from  educated  petty  officers 
neutralise  each  other.  On  the  other  hand,  what  remains  (and 
equally  to  both  sides)  is  the  loss  of  material  of  priceless  mental 
worth,  of  which  the  country  is  deprived  by  the  fact  that  the 
most  educated,  those  who  might  have  promoted  its  civilisation 
by  means  of  inventions,  works  of  art,  or  scientific  inquiry,  are 
set  up  in  rank  and  file  to  be  marks  for  the  enemy's  shot " 

*'  Oh,  well !  for  making  inventions,  and  producing  works  of 
art,  and  investigating  skull-bones,  and  all  sorts  of  things  of  that 
kind,  which  do  not  advance  the  position  of  the  state's  power 
one  drachm " 

"  Hm  ! "— "  What  ?  "     "  Oh,  nothing  ;  go  on." 

*'  For  all  that  there  remains  plenty  of  time  for  people.  And 
besides  they  need  not  serve  for  the  whole  of  their  life ;  but  a 
few  years  of  strict  discipline  are  assuredly  good  for  everybody, 
and  make  them  only  so  much  the  more  competent  to  fulfil 
their  other  duties  as  citizens.  We  must  in  the  present  state  of 
things  pay  the  blood  tax  some  time — so  it  ought  to  be  divided 
between  all  equally." 

"  There  would  be  something  to  say  for  that,  if  it  fell  less 
heavily  on  individuals  on  that  account.  But  that  would  not 
be  the  case;  the  blood  tax  would  not  be  divided  by  that 
measure,  but  increased.  I  hope  the  project  may  not  be  carried 
out  There  is  no  seeing  whither  it  may  lead.  One  state 
would  then  try  to  outvie  the  other  in  strength  of  army,  till  at 
last  there  would  no  longer  be  any  armies,  but  only  armed 
nations.  More  people  would  be  constantly  drawn  into  the 
service ;  the  length  of  service  would  be  constantly  increased ; 
the  incidence  of  war  taxes  and  the  costs  of  armaments 
constantly  greater; — so  that  without  fighting  each  other  the 
nations  would  all  come  to  ruin  in  making  preparations  foi 
war!". 

**  But,  dear  Tilling,  you  look  too  iu,^ 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  353 

*'  One  can  never  look  too  far.  Everything  a  man  undertakes 
he  ought  to  think  out  to  its  remotest  consequence — at  least  as 
far  as  his  mind  reaches.  We  were  likening  war  just  now  to  a 
game  at  chess.  Politics  also  is  of  the  same  nature,  your  excel- 
lency, and  those  are  only  very  feeble  players  who  look  no 
further  forward  than  a  single  move,  and  are  quite  pleased  with 
themselves  if  they  have  got  into  a  position  in  which  they  can 
threaten  a  pawn.  I  want  to  develop  the  thought  of  defensive 
forces  constantly  increasing  and  the  universal  extension  of 
liability  to  military  service  still  more  widely,  till  we  reach  the 
extremest  verge,  />.,  where  the  mass  becomes  excessive.  What 
then,  if  after  the  greatest  numbers  and  the  furthest  limits  of  age 
are  reached,  one  nation  should  take  it  into  its  head  to  recruit 
regiments  of  women  too?  The  others  must  imitate  it  Or 
battalions  of  boys  ?  The  others  must  imitate  it.  And  in  the 
armaments — in  the  means  of  destruction — where  can  the  limit 
be  ?    Oh  this  savage,  blind  leap  into  the  pit  1 " 

"Cahn  yourself,  dear  Tilling.  You  are  a  genuine  faddist. 
If  you  could  only  point  me  out  a  means  to  do  away  with  war 
it  would  be  a  perfect  benefit,  to  be  sure.  But  as  that  is  not 
possible,  every  nation  must  surely  endeavour  to  prepare  itself 
for  it  as  well  as  possible,  in  order  to  assure  itself  of  the  greatest 
chance  of  winning  in  the  inevitable  *  struggle  for  existence ' — 
that  is  the  cant  word  of  the  fashionable  Darwinism,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  If  I  should  choose  to  suggest  to  you  the  means  of  doing 
away  with  wars,  you  would  again  call  me  a  silly  faddist,  a  senti- 
mental dreamer  rendered  morbid  by  the  *  humanitarian  craze  * 
— that,  I  think,  is  the  cant  word  in  favour  with  the  war  party, 
ii  it  not  ?  " 

**  To  be  sure,  I  cannot  conceal  from  you  that  no  practical 
foundation  exists  for  the  realisation  of  such  an  idead.  One 
must  calculate  with  the  actual  factors.  In  these  are  classed  the 
passions  of  men ;  their  rivalries ;  the  divergences  of  interests ; 
the  impossibility  of  coming  to  an  agreement  on  all  questions." 

"  But  that  is  not  necessary.  When  disagreements  begin  an 
AibitiatioD  tribunal — not  force — ^is  to  decide." 

«3 


354  ''^^   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

"  The  sovereign  states  would  never  betake  themselves  to  sucV 
a  tribunal — nor  would  the  peoples." 

"  The  peoples  ?  The  potentates  and  diplomatists  would  not 
— but  the  people?  Just  inquire,  and  you  will  find  that  the 
wish  for  peace  is  warm  and  true  in  the  people,  while  the 
peaceful  assurances  which  proceed  from  the  governments  are 
frequently  lies,  hypocritical  lies — or  at  least  are  regarded  as 
such  on  principle  by  other  governments.  That  is  precisely 
what  is  called  '  diplomacy'.  And  the  peoples  will  go  on  ever 
more  and  more  calling  for  peace.  If  the  general  obligation  of 
defence  should  extend,  the  dislike  of  war  will  increase  in  the 
same  proportion.  A  class  of  soldiers  animated  with  love  for 
their  calling  is,  of  course,  imaginable;  their  exceptional 
position,  which  they  take  for  a  position  of  honour,  is  offered 
to  them  as  a  recompense  for  the  sacrifices  which  it  entails,  but 
when  the  exception  ceases  the  distinction  ceases  also.  The 
admiring  thankfulness  disappears  which  those  who  stay  at  home 
offer  to  those  who  go  out  in  their  defence, — because  then  there 
will  be  no  one  to  stay  at  home.  The  war-loving  feelings  which 
are  always  being  suggested  to  the  soldier — and  in  so  doing  are 
often  awakened  in  him — will  be  more  seldom  kindled ;  for  who 
are  those  that  are  of  the  most  heroic  spirit,  who  are  most  warm 
in  their  enthusiasm  for  the  exploits  and  dangers  of  war  ?  Those 
who  are  safe  against  them— the  professors,  the  politicians,  the 
beer-shop  chatterers — the  chorus  of  old  men,  as  it  is  called  in 
*  Faust '.  When  the  safety  is  lost,  that  chorus  will  be  silenced 
Besides,  if  not  only  those  devote  themselves  to  the  military  life 
who  love  and  praise  it,  but  all  those  also  are  forcibly  dragged 
into  it  who  look  on  it  with  horror,  that  horror  must  work. 
Poets,  thinkers,  friends  of  humanity,  timid  persons,  all  these 
will,  from  their  own  points  of  view,  curse  the  trade  they  arc 
forced  into." 

"  But  they  will  beyond  doubt  have  to  keep  silent  about  this 
way  of  thinking,  in  order  not  to  pass  for  cowards — ^in  order  not 
to  expose  themselves  to  the  displeasure  of  the  higher  powers.** 

"  Keep  silence  ?    Not  for  ever.    As  I  talk — though  I  have 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  355 

fflyielf  kept  silence  long — so  will  the  others  also  break  out  into 
speech.  If  the  thought  ripens,  the  word  will  come.  I  am  an 
indiyidual  who  have  come  to  the  age  of  forty  before  my  convic- 
tion acquired  sufficient  strength  to  expand  itself  in  words.  And 
as  I  have  required  two  or  three  decades,  so  the  masses  will 
perhaps  requira  two  or  three  generations— but  speak  they  will 
atkHt** 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

New- Year* 5  Day,  1867. — The  Luxembourg  question, — Disfufei 
between  France  and  Prussia. — Arbitration. — The  alarm 
blows  over. —  We  visit  Paris. — Plan  of  Napoleon  III.  for 
general  disarmament. — Fredericl^s  efforts  in  the  cause  of 
peace. — "7%^  Protocol  of  Peace.^^ — A  little  daughter  is  born 
to  us. — Renewed  happiness. — Fredericks  studies. — M.  Des- 
moulins^  proposals. — Return  to  Paris,  and  re-entry  into 
the  gay  world. — Talk  of  the  ''^Revanche  de  Sadowa*\ — 
Pressure  of  the  war  party  on  Napoleon  III. —  Whirl  of 
gaiety. —  We  seek  repose  in  Switzerland. — Illness  of  my 
little  daughter.  —  Return  to  Paris  in  March,  1870, — 
Napoleon  III.  drops  his  plan  of  disarmament  under  the 
pressure  of  the  war  party. — Still  peace  jeems  assured. 

The  New  Year,  '67  !  We  kept  the  Sylvester  Night  quite  alone, 
my  Frederick  and  I.    When  it  struck  twelve, — 

"Do  you  recollect,"  I  asked  with  a  sigh,  "the  speech  my 
poor  father  made  in  proposing  a  toast  last  year  at  this  same 
hour?  I  do  not  dare  to  wish  you  good  fortune  now.  The 
future  sometimes  hides  something  so  unexpectedly  terrible  in 
its  bosom ;  and  no  wish  has  ever  availed  to  turn  it  aside." 

"  Then  let  us  use  the  turn  of  the  year,  Martha,  as  an  occasion 
not  for  thinking  of  what  is  coming,  but  for  looking  back  into 
the  year  which  has  just  flown  by.  What  sufferings  you  have 
had  to  endure,  my  poor,  brave  wife  I  So  many  of  your  dear 
ones  buried — and  those  days  of  horror  on  the  batUefields  in 
Bohemia." 

**  I  do  not  grieve  that  I  have  seen  the  cruel  things  that  took 

(356) 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  357 

place  there.  Now  I  can  at  least  participate  with  all  the  might 
of  my  soul  in  your  efforts." 

"  We  must  bring  up  your — or  rather  our — Rudolf  with  a  view 
of  his  pushing  these  efforts  further.  In  his  time  a  visible  mark 
will  perhaps  arise  above  the  horizon — hardly  in  ours.  What  a 
noise  the  people  are  making  in  the  streets !  they  are  greeting 
with  shouts  the  new  year  in  spite  of  the  sufferings  which  the 
old  one  (that  was  greeted  in  the  same  way)  brought  on  them. 
Oh,  how  forgetful  men  are  I  *' 

"Do  not  chide  them  too  much  for  their  forgetfulness, 
Frederick.  We  too  are  beginning  to  brush  away  from  our 
memory  the  sufferings  of  the  past,  and  what  I  feel  is  the  bliss 
of  the  present — the  bliss  of  having  you,  my  own  one.  We 
were  not  to  speak  of  the  future  I  know ;  still  I  think  that  the 
future  we  have  before  us  is  good.  United,  loving,  sufficient  in 
ourselves,  rich — how  many  exquisite  enjoyments  can  not  life 
still  offer  us  !  We  will  travel,  will  make  acquaintance  with  the 
world,  the  world  that  is  so  fair  I  Fair  so  long  as  peace  prevails ; 
and  peace  may  now  last  for  many,  many  years  I  But  if  war  is 
to  break  out  again,  you  are  no  longer  involved  in  it;  and 
Rudolf  too  is  not  threatened,  since  he  is  not  going  to  be  a 
soldier." 

"But  if,  according  to  Minister  To-be-sure*s  information, 
every  man  should  be  obliged  to  share  in  the  defence " 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  So  what  I  mean  is,  we  will  travel ;  we  will 
bring  up  our  Rudolf  to  be  a  pattern  man ;  we  will  follow  our 
noble  aim — the  propaganda  of  peace ;  and  we — we  will  love 
each  other  I " 

TTie  carnival  this  same  year  brought  with  it  once  more  balls 
and  pleasures  of  all  sorts ;  but  my  mourning  kept  me  away  from 
all  such  things.  But  what  astonished  me  was  that  the  whole  of 
society  did  not  abstain  from  such  mad  goings  on.  Surely 
there  must  have  been  a  loss  in  almost  every  family ;  but,  as  it 
seemed,  folks  set  all  that  at  nought  A  few  houses,  it  is  true, 
remained  closed,  especially  among  the  aristocracy;  but  there 
was  no  want  of  opportunities  for  the  young  people  to  dance, 


35^  LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

and  the  most  favoured  partners  were,  of  course,  those  who  had 
come  back  from  the  battlefields  of  Italy  and  Bohemia ;  and  the 
naval  officers  were  those  most  feted^  especially  those  who  had 
fought  at  Lissa.  Half  the  lady  world  had  fallen  in  love  with 
Tegethoff,  the  youthful  admiral,  as  they  had  done  with  the 
handsome  General  Gablenz  after  the  campaign  of  Schleswig- 
Holstein.  "  Custozza  "  and  "  Lissa  "  were  the  two  trump-cards 
which  were  everywhere  played  in  any  conversation  about  the 
war  which  was  over.  Along  with  this,  the  needle-gun  and 
Landwehr  came  in — two  institutions  which  must  be  introduced 
as  speedily  as  possible — ^and  then  future  victories  were  assured 
to  us.  Victories?  when  and  over  whom?  On  this  point 
people  did  not  speak  out ;  but  the  idea  of  revenge,  which  is 
wont  to  accompany  the  loss  of  a  game,  even  if  it  be  only  a  game 
at  cards,  was  hovering  over  all  the  utterances  of  the  politicians. 
If  even  we  did  not  ourselves  take  the  field  once  more  against 
the  Prussians,  perhaps  there  might  be  others  who  would  take 
it  on  themselves  to  avenge  us.  All  appearances  seemed  to 
show  that  France  would  get  into  a  quarrel  with  our  conquerors, 
and  then  they  might  get  paid  off  for  a  good  deal.  The  thing 
had  even  got  a  name  in  diplomatic  circles — "  La  Revanche  de 
Sadowa ".  Such  was  the  triumphant  announcement  to  us  of 
Minister  To-be-sure. 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  spring  that  once  more  a  certain 
"  black  spot "  appeared  on  the  horizon — a  **  question  "  as  they 
call  it  The  news  also  of  French  preparations  provided  the 
conjectural  politicians  with  what  they  love  so—"  the  prospect 
of  war  ".    The  question  this  time  was  called  that  of  Luxembourg. 

Luxembourg  ?  What  was  there  then  of  such  great  importance 
to  the  world  in  that  ?  On  this  subject  I  had  again  to  embark 
in  studies  similar  to  those  about  Schleswig-Holstein.  The 
name  was  indeed  familiar  to  me  only  from  Supp^*s  "Jolly 
Companions,''  in  which,  as  is  well  known,  a  Count  of  Luxem- 
bourg "  spends  all  he  has  in  dress — dress — dress  ".  The  result 
of  my  studies  was  as  follows : — 

Luxembourg  belonged  according  to  the  treaties  of  1 8 14  and 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  359 

1816  (Ah!  there  we  have  it!  treaties — they  contain  ready- 
made  the  root  of  a  national  quarrel — a  fine  institution  these 
treaties)  to  the  King  of  the  Netherlands,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  the  German  Bund.  Prussia  had  the  right  to 
garrison  the  capital.  Now,  however,  as  Prussia  had 
renounced  her  share  in  the  old  Bund,  how  could  she  keep  the 
right  of  garrison  ?  That  was  the  point — the  "  question  ".  The 
peace  of  Prague  had  in  fact  introduced  a  new  system  into 
Germany,  and  thereby  the  connection  with  Luxembourg  had 
been  dissolved;  why  then  did  the  Prussians  maintain  their 
right  of  garrison  ?  "  To  be  sure  "  that  was  an  intricate  affair, 
and  the  most  advantageous  and  righteous  way  of  settling  it 
would  be  to  slaughter  fresh  hundreds  of  thousands — that  every 
"enlightened"  politician  must  allow.  The  Dutch  had  never 
attached  any  importance  to  the  possession  of  the  Grand  Duchy ; 
the  king  also — William  III. — attached  no  importance  to  it, 
and  would  have  been  happy  to  cede  it  to  France  for  a  sum  to 
be  paid  into  his  privy  purse;  so  private  negotiations  now 
commenced  between  the  king  and  the  French  Cabinet. 
Exactly ;  secrecy  is  always  the  essence  of  all  diplomacy.  The 
peoples  are  not  to  know  anything  of  the  matters  in  dispute ; 
as  soon  as  the  latter  are  ripe  for  decision  they  have  the  right  to 
bleed  for  them.  Why  and  wherefore  they  are  fighting  each 
other  is  a  question  of  no  importance. 

It  was  not  till  the  end  of  March  that  the  king  made  the 
official  announcement,  and  on  the  same  day  as  that  on  which 
his  assent  was  telegraphed  to  France,  the  Prussian  ambassador 
at  the  Hague  was  informed  of  it.  On  that  began  negotiations 
with  Prussia.  The  latter  appealed  to  the  guarantees  of  the 
treaties  of  1859,  the  foundations  on  which  the  kingdom  of 
Holland  stood.  Public  opinion  in  Prussia  (What  is  meant  by 
public  opinion  ?  Possibly  the  writers  of  leading  articles)  was 
indignant  that  the  old  German  Reichsland  should  be  torn 
away;  and  in  the  Reichstag  of  North  Germany,  on  April  i, 
there  were  heated  questions  on  the  subject.  Bismarck,  it  is 
true,  remained  cool  about  Luxembourg;  but  oevertbeless  he 


360  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

set  on  foot  preparations  against  France  on  this  occasion,  and 
they  of  course  were  followed  by  counter  preparations  on  the 
French  side.  Ah,  how  well  I  know  that  tune  I  At  that  time 
I  trembled  sorely  for  fear  of  a  new  fire  being  lighted  in  Europe. 
No  want  of  people  to  poke  it — in  Paris,  Cassagnac  and  Emile 
de  Girardin,  in  Berlin,  Menzel  and  Heinrich  Leo.  Have  then 
such  provokers  of  war  even  fhe  remotest  notion  of  the  gigantic 
enormity  of  their  transgression  ?  I  hardly  think  so.  It  was  at 
this  time — ^as  I  first  heard  the  tale  many  years  after — ^that 
Professor  Simson  used  the  foUovdng  expression  in  the  presence 
of  the  Crown  Prince  Frederick  of  Prussia  about  the  question 
in  dispute : — 

"  If  France  and  Holland  have  already  come  to  an  agreement, 
that  signifies  war  ". 

To  which  the  crown  prince  in  hot  excitement  and  alarm 
rephed : — 

"  You  have  never  seen  war ;  if  you  had  seen  it,  you  would 
not  pronounce  the  word  so  quietly.  I  have  seen  it ;  and  I  say 
to  you  that  it  is  the  highest  duty,  if  it  be  anyhow  possible,  to 
avoid  it.** 

And  this  time  it  was  avoided.  A  conference  met  at  London, 
which,  on  May  11,  led  to  the  wished-for  peaceable  solution. 
Luxembourg  was  declared  neutral  and  Prussia  drew  her  troops 
out  The  friends  of  peace  breathed  again,  but  there  were 
plenty  of  people  who  were  discontented  at  this  turn  of  affairs. 
Not  the  Emperor  of  the  French — he  wished  for  peace — but  the 
French  "  war  party  '*.  In  Germany  too  there  were  voices  raised 
to  condemn  the  behaviour  of  Prussia.  "  Sacrifice  of  a  fortress," 
"  submission  looking  like  fear,*'  and  other  things  of  the  kind. 
But  every  private  person  also,  who  on  the  sentence  of  a 
court  gives  up  his  claim  to  any  possessions,  shows  the  same 
submission.  Would  it  be  better  for  him  not  to  bow  to  any 
tribunal,  but  to  settle  the  matter  with  his  fists?  The  resuh 
achieved  by  the  conference  of  London  may  m  such  doubtful 
questions  be  always  achieved,  and  the  leaders  oi  states  can 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  36 1 

always  find  that  avoidance  possible,  which  Frederick  the  Noble, 
afterwards  Frederick  III.,  called  the  highest  duty. 


In  May  we  betook  ourselves  to  Paris  to  visit  the  exhibition. 

I  had  not  yet  seen  the  World's  Capital,  and  was  quite  dazzled 
by  its  splendour  and  its  life.  At  that  time  especially,  the 
empire  was  standing  at  its  highest  pitch  of  splendour,  and  all 
the  crowned  heads  of  Europe  had  collected  there ;  and  at  that 
time  above  all  others,  Paris  presented  a  picture  of  splendour 
the  most  joyful  and  the  most  secure  of  peace.  The  city 
appeared  to  me  at  that  time  not  like  the  capital  of  a  single 
country,  but  like  the  capital  of  Internationality ;  that  city  which 
three  years  afterwards  was  to  be  bombarded  by  its  eastern 
neighbour.  All  the  nations  of  the  earth  had  assembled  in  the 
great  palace  in  the  Champ  de  Mars  for  the  peaceful — 
nay  profitable,  because  productive  not  destructive — strife  of 
business  competition.  Riches,  works  of  art,  marvels  of  manu- 
factory were  brought  together  here,  so  that  it  must  have  excited 
pride  in  every  beholder  to  have  lived  in  a  time  so  progressive 
and  so  full  of  promise  of  further  progress ;  and  along  with  this 
pride  must  naturally  have  arisen  the  purpose  never  more  to 
hamper  the  march  of  that  development  of  civilisation  which 
was  spreading  enjoyment  all  round,  by  the  brutal  rage  of 
destruction.  All  these  kings,  princes,  and  diplomatists  who 
were  assembled  here  as  guests  of  the  emperor  and  empress 
could  not  surely  be  thinking  amidst  all  the  civilities  that  were 
interchanged,  the  courtesies  and  the  good  wishes,  of  exchanging 
next  time  shots  with  their  hosts  or  one  another?  No.  I 
breathed  again.  This  really  splendid  exhibition  flte  seemed 
to  me  the  pledge  that  now  an  era  of  long,  long  years  of  peace  had 
begun.  At  most  against  an  incursion  of  Tartar  hordes,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort,  these  civilised  people  might  draw  the  sword ; 
but  against  each  other ! — we  were  never  more  to  see  that  it  was 
hoped.  What  strengthened  me  in  this  opinion  was  a  communica- 
tion that  reached  me  from  a  well-informed  trustworthy  source 


36a  LAY   DOWN    YOUR  ARMS. 

about  a  favourite  plan  of  the  emperor  for  tigeneral  disarmament. 
Yes.  Napoleon  III.  was  strong  on  that  point.  I  have  it  from 
the  mouth  of  his  nearest  relations  and  most  trusted  friends, 
and  on  the  next  convenient  opportunity  he  was  going  to 
communicate  to  all  the  European  governments  a  proposal  for 
reducing  their  military  establishments  to  a  minimum.  That 
was  good  to  hear ;  it  was  at  any  rate  a  more  reasonable  idea 
than  that  of  a  general  increase  of  forces.  In  this  way  the  well- 
known  demand  of  Kant  would  be  granted,  which  is  thus 
formulated  in  par.  3  of  the  "  Preliminary  Article  to  an  Ever- 
lasting Peace": — 

Standing  armies  {miles  perpetuus)  arc  in  time  to  cease  absolutely. 
They  are  a  constant  menace  of  war  to  other  states,  in  consequence  of  the 
readiness  to  appear  always  prepared  for  war  ;  they  provoke  them  to  over- 
pass each  other  in  the  mass  of  preparations  which  know  no  limit  (oh, 
prophetic  glance  of  wisdom  !) ;  and  inasmuch  as  the  costs  of  maintaining 
peace  become  at  last  more  burdensome  than  a  short  war,  they  are  them- 
selves causes  of  offensive  war,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  this  burden. 

What  government  could  decline  a  proposition  such  as  that 
which  France  was  meditating  without  unmasking  its  lust  of 
conquest?  What  nation  would  not  revolt  against  such  a 
refusal?     The  plan  must  succeed. 

Frederick  did  not  share  my  confidence. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  he  said,  "  I  doubt  whether  Napoleon 
will  make  the  proposal.  The  pressure  of  the  war  party  will 
hinder  him.  As  a  general  rule  the  occupants  of  thrones  are 
prevented  by  those  who  surround  them  from  the  exercise  of 
those  great  efforts  of  individual  will,  which  fall  quite  outside  of 
the  usual  pattern.  In  the  second  place,  one  cannot  give  to  a 
living  being  the  command  to  cease  to  exist  in  this  sort  of  way. 
It  straightway  sets  itself  on  its  defence " 

"  Of  what  living  being  are  you  speakmg  ?  *' 

"  Of  the  army.  That  is  an  organism,  and  as  such  has  powers 
of  life  development  and  of  self-maintenance.  At  the  present 
time  this  organism  is  just  in  its  prime,  and,  as  you  see — 
for  the  system  of  universal  defence  will  surely  be  introduced 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  363 

into  Other  countries — is  just  on  the  point  of  being  powerfully 
extended." 

"And  yet  you  want  to  fight  against  it?" 

**  Yes ;  but  not  by  stepping  up  to  it  and  saying  *  Die,  thou 
monster !  *  for  the  organism  in  question  would  hardly  do  me 
the  kindness  to  stretch  itself  dead  at  my  feet  on  that  summons. 
But  I  am  fighting  against  it  in  appearing  on  behalf  of  another 
living  form,  which  is  still  only  in  its  fragile  bud,  but  which,  as 
it  gains  in  power  and  extent,  will  crush  the  other  out.  It  is 
your  fault  to  begin  with,  Martha,  that  I  talk  in  these  scientific 
metaphors.  It  was  you  who  first  led  me  to  study  the  works  of 
the  modem  students  of  nature.  From  this  there  has  arisen  in 
me  the  view  that  the  phenomena  of  social  life  also  can  not  be 
understood  in  their  origin,  or  foreseen  in  their  future  course  till 
one  conceives  of  them  as  existing  under  the  influence  of  eternal 
laws.  Of  this  most  politicians  and  people  in  positions  of  high 
dignity  have  no  notion — not  the  faintest;  the  worthy  soldier  cer- 
tainly not.    A  few  years  ago  it  had  not  entered  my  head  either." 

We  were  living  in  the  Grand  Hotel  on  the  Boulevard  des 
Capucines.  It  was  occupied  chiefly  by  English  people  and 
Americans.  We  met  few  of  our  own  people — the  Austrians 
are  not  fond  of  travel.  Besides,  we  sought  for  no  acquaintance. 
I  had  not  put  off  my  mourning,  and  we  cherished  no  wish  for 
company.  Of  course  I  had  my  son  Rudolf  with  me.  He  was 
now  eight  years  old,  and  a  wonderfully  clever  little  fellow.  We 
had  hired  a  young  Englishman,  who  performed  the  duties  partly 
of  tutor,  partly  of  nursery  governess  to  the  boy.  In  our  long 
visits  to  the  exhibition-palace,  as  well  as  our  numerous  ex- 
cursions into  the  neighbourhood,  we  could  not,  of  course, 
always  take  Rudi  with  us ;  and  besides,  the  time  was  also  now 
come  for  him  to  begin  to  learn. 

New — new— new— to  me,  was  the  whole  of  this  worid  here 
open  to  us.  All  the  men  who  had  come  together  from  the 
four  comers  of  the  earth— the  richest  and  most  distinguished 
from  every  quarter— these  fetes^  this  expenditure,  this  turmoil. 
I  was  literally  deafened  by  it      But,  interesting  and  full  of 


364  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

enjoyment  as  it  was  to  me  to  receive  into  my  mind  these 
surprising  and  overpowering  impressions,  yet,  when  alone,  I 
wished  myself  out  of  all  this  hubbub  again,  and  in  some  remote 
peaceful  spot,  where  I  could  live  in  quiet  retirement  along  with 
Frederick  and  my  child — nay,  my  children^  for  I  was  looking 
forward  confidently  to  the  joy  of  motherhood  again.  It  is 
wonderful,  indeed— and  I  find  it  often  noted  in  the  red 
volumes — how  in  retirement  the  longing  rises  for  events  and 
exploits,  for  experiences  and  enjoyments;  and  again,  in  the 
midst  of  the  latter,  for  solitude  and  tranquillity. 

We  kept  ourselves  apart  from  the  great  world  We  had 
merely  paid  a  visit  to  the  house  of  our  ambassador,  Metter- 
nich,  and  had  let  it  be  known  there  that  on  account  of  our 
domestic  afflictions  we  did  not  desire  any  entrke  into  Court 
circles  or  society.  On  the  other  hand,  we  sought  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  a  few  prominent  political  and  literary  person- 
ages, partly  from  self-interest  and  for  our  mental  improvement, 
partly  with  a  view  to  "  the  service  "  into  which  Frederick  had 
entered.  In  spite  of  the  slight  hopes  he  had  of  any  perceptible 
result  from  his  efforts,  he  never  allowed  it  to  escape  him,  and 
he  put  himself  into  communication  with  numerous  influential 
persons,  from  whom  he  might  gain  assistance  in  his  career,  or 
at  least  information  as  to  its  position.  We  had  at  that  time 
commenced  a  little  book  of  our  own — we  called  it  The  Protocol 
of  Peace — into  which  all  news,  notices,  articles,  and  so  forth, 
bearing  on  the  subject,  were  to  be  sedulously  entered.  The 
history  also  of  the  idea  of  Peace,  as  far  as  we  could  gain  a 
knowledge  of  it,  was  incorporated  in  the  Protocol ;  and  along 
with  this  the  expressions  of  various  philosophers,  poets,  priests, 
and  authors  on  the  subject  of  "  Peace  and  War  ".  It  had  soon 
grown  into  an  imposing  little  volume ;  and  in  course  of  time 
— for  I  have  carried  on  this  composition  down  to  the  present 
day — ^it  has  grown  into  several  httle  volumes.  If  one  were  to 
compare  it  with  the  libraries  which  are  filled  with  works  on 
strategical  subjects,  with  the  untold  thousands  of  volumes 
containing  histories  of  wars,  studies  on  war,  and  glorification  of 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  365 

war,  with  the  text-books  of  military  science  and  military 
tactics,  and  guides  for  the  instruction  of  recruits  and  artillery, 
with  the  chronicles  of  battles  and  annals  of  etats-majors^ 
soldiers'  ballads  and  war  songs :  well,  then,  I  allow  that  the 
comparison  with  these  one  or  two  poor  little  volumes  of  peace- 
literature  might  humiliate  one,  on  the  assumption  that  one 
might  measure  the  power  and  value — especially  the  future 
value — of  a  thing  by  its  size.  But  if  one  reflects  that  a  single 
grain  of  seed  hides  in  itself  the  virtual  power  of  causing  the 
growth  of  an  entire  forest,  which  will  displace  whole  masses 
of  weeds,  though  spread  over  acres  of  country,  and  further 
reflects  that  an  idea  is  in  the  mental  kingdom  what  a  seed 
is  in  the  vegetable,  then  one  need  not  be  anxious  about  the 
future  of  an  idea,  merely  because  the  history  of  its  development 
may  be  as  yet  contained  in  one  little  manuscript. 

I  will  here  produce  a  few  extracts  taken  from  our  Protocol 
of  Peace  for  the  year  1867.  On  the  first  page  was  placed  a 
compressed  historical  survey. 

Fonr  hundred  years  before  Christ,  Aristophanes  wrote  a  oomtdy— • 
"  Peace  " — into  which  a  humanitarian  tendency  enters. 

The  Greek  philosophy — afterwards  transplanted  to  Rome — admitted 
a  striving  after  "  the  unity  of  humanity  "  from  Socrates,  who  called  him- 
self a  "  citizen  of  the  world,"  down  to  Terence,  to  whom  "  nothing  human 
was  foreign,"  and  Cicero,  who  represents  the  "  love  of  the  human  race  "  as 
the  highest  grade  of  perfection. 

In  the  first  century  of  our  era  appears  Virgil  with  his  famous  fourth 
eclogue  which  prophesies  universal  peace  to  the  world  under  the  mytho- 
logical image  of  the  return  of  the  golden  age. 

In  the  middle  ages,  the  Popes  often  strove,  though  in  vain,  to 
interpose  as  arbitrators  between  states. 

In  the  fifteenth  century  the  idea  occurred  to  a  king  of  forming  a 
•'league  of  peace".  This  was  Geo.  Podiebrad  of  Bohemia,  who  wished 
to  put  an  end  to  the  wars  of  the  emperor  and  the  Pope ;  for  this  purpose 
he  betook  himself  to  King  Louis  XI.  of  France,  who  however  did  not  fall 
in  with  the  proposal. 

At  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  King  Henry  IV.  of  Prance 
conceived  the  plan  of  a  European  confederation  of  states.  After  he  .had 
delivered  his  country  from  the  horrors  of  the  religious  war,  he  wished  to 


366  LAY  DOWN   TOUR  ARMS. 

see  toleration  and  peace  assured  for  all  futnre  time.  He  wished  to  see 
the  sixteen  states  of  which  Europe  then  consisted  (for  Russia  and  Turkey 
were  reckoned  parts  of  Asia)  combined  into  a  Bund.  Each  of  these 
sixteen  states  was  to  have  the  right  of  sending  two  members  to  a 
"  European  Council,"  and  to  this  council,  consisting  thus  of  thirty-two 
members,  the  task  was  to  be  entrusted  of  maintaining  the  religious  peace, 
and  avoiding  all  international  conflicts.  And  then  if  every  state  would 
bind  itself  to  submit  to  the  decisions  of  the  council,  every  element  of 
European  wars  would  be  thereby  removed.  The  king  communicated 
this  plan  to  his  Minister,  Sully,  who  heartily  accepted  it  and  straightway 
commenced  negotiations  with  the  other  states.  Elizabeth  of  England, 
the  Pope,  Holland,  and  several  others  were  actually  won  over ;  only  the 
House  of  Austria  would  have  offered  resistance,  because  territorial  con- 
cessions might  have  been  demanded  from  her,  which  she  would  not  have 
granted.  A  campaign  would  have  been  necessary  to  overcome  this 
resistance.  France  would  have  contributed  the  main  army,  and  she 
would  have  renounced  beforehand  any  extension  of  territory ;  the  sole 
aim  of  the  campaign  and  the  sole  condition  of  peace  imposed  on  the 
House  of  Austria  would  have  been  their  entrance  into  the  league  of  states. 
All  the  preparations  were  already  completed,  and  Henry  IV.  meant  to 
take  the  command  of  the  army  in  person,  when  on  May  13,  1610,  he  fell 
under  the  dagger  of  an  insane  monk. 

None  of  his  successors  nor  any  other  sovereign  took  up  again  this 
glorious  plan  for  procuring  happiness  for  the  nations.  Rulers  and  poli- 
ticians remained  true  to  the  old  war-spirit ;  but  the  thinkers  of  all  countries 
did  not  allow  the  idea  of  peace  to  fall  to  the  ground  again. 

In  the  year  1647  the  sect  of  the  Quakers  was  founded,  and  the 
condemnation  of  war  was  its  fundamental  principle.  In  the  same  year 
William  Penn  published  his  work  on  the  future  peace  of  Europe, 
which  he  founded  on  the  plan  of  Henry  IV. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  appeared  the  famous  book 
of  the  Ahh6  de  S.  Pierre,  entitled  La  Paix  Perpetuelle,  At  the  same  time 
a  Landgrave  of  Hesse  sketched  out  the  same  plan,  and  Leibnitz  wrote 
a  favourable  comment  on  it. 

Voltaire  gave  out  the  maxim  "  Every  European  war  is  a  civil  war  ". 
Mirabeau,  in  the  memorable  session  of  August  25,  1790,  spoke  the 
following  words: — 

"  The  moment  is  perhaps  not  far  off  now  when  Freedom,  as  the  unfet- 
tered monarch  of  both  worlds,  will  fulfil  the  wish  of  philosophers,  to  free 
mankind  from  the  sin  of  war,  and  proclaim  universal  peace.  Then 
will  the  happiness  of  the  people  be  the  only  aim  of  the  legislator,  the 
only  glory  of  the  nations." 

In  the  year  1795  one  of  the  greatest  thinkers  of  all  time,  Emmanue 


LAY    DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  367 

Kant,  wrote  hia  treatise  '•  On  Eternal  Peace  **.  The  English  publicist, 
Bentham,  joins  with  enthusiasm  the  ever-increasing  number  of  the 
defenders  of  peace— Fourrier,  Saint  Simon,  etc.  Beranger  sang  •♦  The 
Holy  Alliance  of  Peace,"  Lamartinc  "  La  Marseillaise  de  la  Paix  ".  In 
Geneva  Count  Cellon  founded  a  "  Peace  Club,"  in  whose  name  he 
entered  into  a  propagandist  correspondence  with  all  the  rulers  of 
Europe.  From  Massachusetts  in  America  comes  "  the  learned  black- 
smith," Elihu  Burritt,  and  scatters  his  Olive  Leaves  and  Sparks  from  an 
Anvil  about  the  world  in  millions  of  copies,  and  takes  the  chair  in  1849  at 
an  assembly  of  the  English  Friends  of  Peace.  In  the  Congress  of  Paris, 
which  wound  up  the  Crimean  War,  the  idea  of  peace  gained  a  footing  in 
diplomacy,  inasmuch  as  a  clause  was  added  to  the  treaty  which  provided 
that  the  Powers  pledged  themselves  in  future  conflicts  to  submit  them- 
selves previously  to  mediation.  This  clause  contains  in  itself  a  recog- 
nition of  the  principle  of  a  court  of  arbitration,  but  it  has  not  been  acted 
upon. 

In  the  year  1863  the  French  Government  proposed  to  the  Powers  to 
call  a  congress,  before  which  was  to  be  brought  the  consideration  of 
proposals  for  a  general  disarmament,  and  for  the  avoidance  of  future 
wars. 

But  this  proposal  found  no  support  whatever  from  the  other 
Governments. 


And  now,  my  hour  of  trial  was  again  drawing  nigh. 

But  it  was  so  different  this  time  from  that  other  in  which 
Frederick  had  to  leave  me — to  fight  for  the  Augustenburger. 
This  time  he  was  at  my  side — the  husband's  proper  post — 
diminishing  through  his  presence  and  through  his  sympathy 
the  sufferings  of  his  wife.  The  feeling  that  I  had  him  there 
was  to  me  so  calming  and  so  happy  that  in  it  I  almost  forgot 
my  physical  discomfort. 

A  girl  1  It  was  the  fulfilment  of  my  silent  hope.  The  joys 
connected  with  a  son  had  already  been  given  to  us  by  my  little 
Rudolf :  we  could  now,  in  addition  to  these,  taste  those  joys 
whioh  such  a  fine  little  daughter  promised  to  her  parents. 
That  this  little  Sylvia  of  ours  would  grow  into  a  paragon  of 
beauty,  grace,  and  comeliness  we  did  not  doubt  for  a  single 
moment     How  childish  we  both  of  us  became  over  the  cradle 


j68  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 


"% 


of  this  child  ;  what  sweet  fooleries  we  spoke  and  acted  there, 
I  will  not  even  try  to  tell.  Others  than  fond  parents  would 
not  understand  it,  and  all  of  them  have  no  doubt  been  just  as 
silly  themselves. 

But  how  selfish  happiness  makes  us  !  There  came  now  a 
time  for  us,  in  which  we  really  were  far  too  forgetful  of  every- 
thing which  lay  outside  of  our  domestic  heaven.  The  terrors 
of  the  cholera  week  kept  taking  always  more  and  more  in  my 
memory  the  shape  of  a  vanished  evil  dream ;  and  even 
Frederick's  energy  in  the  pursuit  of  his  aim  gradually  abated. 
And  it  was  no  doubt  discouraging,  wherever  one  knocked  at 
any  doors  with  these  ideas,  to  meet  with  shrugs  of  shoulders, 
compassionate  smiles,  if  not  a  regular  setting  to  rights.  The 
world,  as  it  seems,  is  fond  not  only  of  being  cheated,  but 
also  of  being  made  miserable.  Wherever  one  tries  to  put 
forward  any  proposals  for  removing  misery  and  woe,  they  are 
called  "  Utopian — a  childish  dream  '' — ^and  the  world  will  not 
listen  to  them. 

Still  Frederick  did  not  let  his  aim  fall  quite  out  of  sight.  He 
plunged  ever  deeper  into  the  study  of  international  law,  and 
got  into  correspondence  by  letter  with  Bluntschli  and  other 
men  learned  in  this  branch.  At  the  same  time,  and  here  with 
my  companionship,  he  diligently  followed  other  studies,  chiefly 
natural  science.  He  formed  a  plan  for  writing  a  great  work  on 
"War  and  Peace**.  But,  before  setting  to  work  on  it,  he 
wanted  to  prepare  himself  for  it  and  instruct  himself  by  long 
and  comprehensive  researches.  "I  am,  it  is  true,"  he  said, 
"  an  old  royal  and  imperial  colonel,  and  it  would  shame  most 
of  my  equals  in  age  and  rank  to  dip  into  schooling.  When  one 
is  an  elderly  man  of  office  and  rank  one  thinks  oneself  usually 
clever  enough  to  act  independently.  I  myself  a  few  years 
since  had  that  respect  for  my  own  indiYiduality.  But  when  I 
had  suddenly  attained  to  a  new  point  of  view,  in  which  I  got 
an  insight  into  the  modern  spirit,  then  the  consciousness  of  my 
want  of  knowledge  came  over  me.  Ah  yes !  Of  all  the  gains 
that  have  now  been  made  in  the  matter  of  new  discoveries  in  all 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  A&MS.  369 

provinces  of  knowledge,  there  was  nothing  at  all  taught  in  my 
youtli — or  rather  the  reverse  was  taught — so  I  must  now,  in 
spite  of  the  streaks  of  grey  on  my  temples,  begin  again  at  the 
beginning.** 

The  winter  after  Sylvia's  birth  we  spent  at  Vienna  in  perfect 
quiet.  Next  spring  we  travelled  to  Italy.  To  travel  and  make 
acquaintance  with  the  world  was  indeed  a  part  of  our  new 
programme  of  life.  We  were  independent  and  rich,  and 
nothing  hindered  us  from  carrying  it  out.  Small  children  are 
a  little  troublesome  in  travelling ;  but  if  one  can  take  about 
a  sufficient  train  of  bonnes  and  nurses,  the  thing  can  be  done. 
I  had  taken  into  my  establishment  an  old  servant  who  had  once 
been  nurse  to  me  and  my  sifters,  and  then  had  married  an 
hotel  steward,  and  now  was  left  a  widow.  This  *'  Mistress 
Anna  "  was  worthy  of  my  fullest  confidence,  and  in  her  hands 
I  could  leave  ray  httle  Sylvia  at  home  with  perfect  security, 
at  any  time  when  we — i.e^  Frederick  and  I — left  our  head- 
quarters for  several  days  on  some  excursion.  Rudolf  would 
have  been  just  as  well  seen  after  by  Mr.  Foster,  his  tutor  ;  but 
it  often  happened  that  we  took  the  httle  eight-years-old  boy 
with  us. 

Happy,  happy  times  I  Pity  that  I  then  neglected  the  red 
books  so  much  !  It  was  exactly  at  this  time  that  I  might  have 
entered  so  much  that  was  beautiful,  interesting  and  gay  ;  but  I 
neglected  it,  and  so  the  details  of  that  year  have  mostly  faded 
out  of  my  recollection,  and  it  is  only  in  rough  outline  that  I 
can  now  recall  a  picture  of  it. 

In  the  Protocol  of  Peace  I  did  find  an  opportunity  to  make 
a  gratifying  entry.  This  was  a  leading  article  signed  B. 
Desmoulins,  in  which  the  proposal  was  made  to  the  French 
Government  that  it  should  put  itself  at  the  head  of  the 
European  states  by  giving  them  the  example  of  disarma- 
ment : — 

In  this  way  France  will  make  herself  sure  of  tb«  alliance  and  of  the 
honest  friendship  of  all  states,  which  will  then  have  ceased  to  he  afraid 
of  France,  while   they  would  desire   her  sympathy,     in  this  way  the 

24 


370  I^Y   DOWN   YOUE   ARMS. 

general  disarmament  would  commence  spontaneously— the  principle  ol 
conquest  would  be  given  up  for  ever,  and  the  confederation  of  states 
would  quite  naturally  form  a  Court  of  International  Law,  which  would 
be  in  a  position  to  settle  in  the  way  of  arbitration  all  disputes  which 
could  never  be  decided  by  war.  In  so  acting,  France  would  have  gained 
over  to  her  side  the  only  real  and  only  lasting  power — namely,  right — 
and  would  have  opened  for  humanity,  in  the  most  glorious  manner,  a 
new  era.    {Opinion  NationaUj  July  25,  x868.) 

This  article,  of  course,  got  no  attention. 

In  the  winter  of  1868-69  we  went  back  to  Paris,  and  this 
time,  for  we  wished  to  make  acquaintance  with  life,  we  plunged 
into  the   "  Great  World  ". 

It  was  a  rather  tiring  process ;  but  yet  for  a  time  it  was  very 
pleasant.  In  order  to  have  some  home,  we  had  hired  a  small 
residence  in  the  quarter  of  the  Champs  Elys^es,  whither  we 
also  could  sometimes  invite  in  turn  our  numerous  acquain- 
tance, by  whom  we  were  invited  every  day  to  a  party  of  some 
kind  or  other.  Having  been  introduced  by  our  ambassador 
at  the  Court  of  the  Tuilleries,  we  were  invited  for  the  whole 
winter  to  the  Mondays  of  the  empress,  and,  besides  this,  the 
houses  of  all  the  ambassadors  were  open  to  us,  as  well  as  the 
salons  of  Princess  Mathilde,  the  Duchess  of  Mouchy,  Queen 
Isabella  of  Spain,  and  so  on.  We  made  the  acquaintance  also 
of  many  literary  magnates,  not  of  the  greatest,  however,  I  mean 
Victor  Hugo,  as  he  was  living  in  exile,  but  we  met  Renan, 
Dumas  pere  et  fils^  Octave  Feuillet,  George  Sand,  Arsbne 
Houssaye,  and  some  others.  At  the  house  of  the  last  named 
we  also  were  present  at  a  masked  ball.  When  the  author  of 
the  Grandes  Dames  gave  one  of  his  Venetian  fetes  in  his 
splendid  little  hotel,  on  the  Avenue  Friedland,  it  was  the 
custom  that  the  real  grandes  dames  should  go  there  under  the 
protection  of  their  masks  along  with  the  "  little  ladies,"  well- 
known  actresses  and  so  forth,  who  were  m.aking  their  diamonds 
and  their  wit  sparkle  here. 

We  were  also  very  industrious  visitors  to  the  theatres.  At 
least  three  times  a  week  we  spent  our  evenings  either  at  the 
Italian  opera,  where  Adelina  Patti,  just  married  to  the  Marquis 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  37 1 

de  Caux,  was  enchanting  the  audience,  or  at  the  Thedire 
Franfais,  or  even  at  one  of  the  little  boulevard  theatres  to  see 
Hortense  Schneider  as  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Gerolstein,  or 
some  of  the  other  celebrities  of  operetta  or  vaudeville. 

It  is  wonderful,  however,  how,  when  one  is  once  plunged 
into  this  whirl  of  splendour  and  entertainments,  this  little  "  great 
world"  appears  to  one  all  of  a  sudden  so  terribly  important;  and 
the  laws  which  prevail  therein  of  elegance  and  chic  (it  was  even 
then  called  chic)  as  laying  on  one  a  kind  of  solemnly  undertaken 
duty.  To  take  at  the  theatre  a  less  distinguished  place  than  a 
stage-box ;  to  appear  in  the  Bois  with  a  carriage  whose  equipage 
should  not  be  faultless ;  to  go  to  a  court  ball  without  putting 
on  a  toilette  of  2000  francs,  "signed"  by  Worth  ;  to  sit  down 
to  table  (Madame  la  Baronne  est  servie),  even  if  one  had  no 
guests,  without  having  the  finest  dishes  and  the  choicest  wines 
served  by  the  solemn  maitre  d'hdtel  in  person  and  several 
lackeys,  all  these  would  have  been  serious  offences.  How  easy, 
how  very  easy  it  becomes  to  one,  when  one  is  caught  up  in  the 
machinery  of  such  an  existence  as  this,  to  spend  all  one's 
thoughts  and  feelings  on  this  business,  which  is  really  devoid  of 
all  thought  and  feeling,  and  in  doing  this  to  forget  to  take  any 
part  in  the  progress  of  the  real  world  outside,  I  mean  the 
universe,  or  in  the  condition  of  one's  own  world  within,  I  mean 
domestic  bliss.  This  is  what  might  perhaps  have  happened  to 
me,  but  Frederick  preserved  me  from  it.  He  was  not  the  man 
to  allow  himself  to  be  torn  away  and  smothered  by  the  whirl- 
pool of  Parisian  "high-life".  He  did  not  forget,  in  the  world  in 
which  we  were  moving,  either  the  universe  or  our  own  hearth. 
An  hour  or  two  in  the  morning  we  still  kept  devoted  to  reading 
and  domestic  life ;  and  so  we  accomplished  the  great  feat  of 
enjoying  happiness  even  in  the  midst  of  pleasure. 

For  us  Austrians  there  was  much  sympathy  cherished  at 
Paris.  In  political  conversations  there  was  often  a  talk  about 
a  Revanche  de  Sadowa,  certainly  in  the  sense  that  the  injustice 
done  to  us  two  years  before  was  to  be  made  good  again— as  if 
anything  of  that  sort  could  make  it  good  again.     If  blows  are 


37*  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

only  to  be  wiped  out  by  fresh  blows,  then  surely  the  thing 
can  never  cease.  It  was  just  to  my  husband  and  me,  because 
he  had  been  in  the  army  and  had  served  the  campaign  in 
Bohemia,  it  was  just  to  us  that  people  thought  they  could  say 
nothing  more  polite  or  more  agreeable  than  a  hopeful  allusion 
to  the  Revanche  de  Sadowa  which  was  in  prospect,  and  which 
was  already  treated  of  as  an  historical  event  which  would  assure 
the  European  equilibrium,  and  was  itself  ensured  by  diplomatic 
arrangements.  A  slap  to  be  administered  to  the  Prussians  on  the 
next  opportunity  was  a  necessity  in  the  school-discipline  of 
the  nations.  Nothing  tragical  would  come  of  the  matter,  only 
enough  to  check  the  arrogance  of  certain  folks.  Perhaps  even 
the  whip  hanging  up  on  the  wall  would  be  enough  for  this 
purpose ;  but  if  that  arrogant  fellow  should  try  any  of  his  saucy 
tricks  he  had  received  fair  warning  that  it  would  come  down 
upon  him  in  the  shape  of  the  Revanche  de  Sadowa, 

We,  of  course,  decisively  put  aside  all  such  consolations.  A 
former  misfortune  was  not  to  be  conjured  away  by  a  fresh 
misfortune,  nor  an  old  injustice  to  be  atoned  for  by  a  new 
injustice.  We  assured  our  friends  that  we  wished  for  nothing, 
except  that  we  might  never  see  the  present  peace  broken  again. 
This  was  also  essentially  the  wish  of  Napoleon  III.  We  had 
so  much  intercourse  with  persons  whose  position  was  quite 
close  to  the  emperor,  that  we  had  plenty  of  opportunities  of 
becoming  acquainted  with  his  political  views,  as  he  gave  utter- 
ance to  them  in  his  confidential  conversation.  It  was  not  only 
that  he  wished  for  peace  at  the  moment — he  cherished  the 
plan  of  proposing  to  the  powers  a  general  disarmament.  But, 
for  the  moment,  he  did  not  feel  his  own  domestic  position  in 
the  country  secure  enough  to  carry  this  plan  out.  There  was 
great  discontent  boiling  and  seething  among  the  populace; 
and  in  the  circle  immediately  surrounding  the  throne  there 
was  a  party  which  laboured  to  represent  to  him  that  his  throne 
could  only  be  rendered  secure  by  a  successful  foreign  war — ^just 
a  little  triumphal  promenade  to  the  Rhine,  and  the  splendour 
and  stability  of  the  Napoleonic  dynasty  were  secured.  Jl  faut 
faire  grandy  was  the  advice  of  his  counsellors.     That  the  war. 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  373 

which  was  in  prospect  the  year  before  on  the  Luxembourg 
question,  had  come  to  nothing,  and  was  displeasing  to  them  j 
the  preparations  on  both  sides  had  gone  on  so  grandly,  and 
then  the  matter  had  been  adjourned.  But  in  the  long  run 
a  fight  between  France  and  Prussia  was  certainly  inevitable 
They  were  incessantly  urging  on  further  in  this  direction.  But 
only  a  feeble  echo  of  these  matters  came  to  us.  One  is 
accustomed  to  hear  that  sort  of  thing  resounding  in  the 
journals,  as  regularly  as  the  breakers  on  the  shore.  There  is 
no  occasion  to  fear  a  storm  on  that  account.  You  listen  quite 
tranquilly  to  the  band  which  is  playing  its  lively  airs  on  the 
beach — the  breakers  form  only  a  soft  unheeded  bass  accom- 
paniment to  them* 

This  brilliant  way  of  life,  only  too  overburdened  with 
pleasure,  reached  its  highest  pitch  in  the  spring  months.  At 
that  time  there  were  added  long  drives  in  the  Bois  in  open 
carriages,  numerous  picture  exhibitions,  garden  parties,  horse- 
races,  picnics,  and  with  all  this  no  fewer  theatres,  or  visits,  or 
dinner  or  evening  parties,  than  in  the  depth  of  winter.  We 
then  began  to  long  much  for  repose.  In  fact,  this  sort  of  life 
has  never  its  true  attraction,  except  when  some  flirtation  or 
love  affair  is  combined  with  it  Girls  who  are  in  search  of  a 
husband,  women  who  want  a  lover,  or  men  who  are  in 
search  of  adventures,  for  these  every  new  f2te^  where  it  is 
possible  they  may  meet  the  object  of  their  dream,  possesses  a 
new  interest,  but  for  Frederick  and  me  ?  That  I  was  inflexibly 
true  to  my  lord,  that  I  never  by  a  single  glance  gave  any  one 
the  occasion  to  approach  me  with  any  audacious  hopes,  I  may 
say,  without  any  pride  of  virtue — it  was  a  mere  matter  of  course. 
Whether,  under  diflerent  relations,  I  should  also  have  resisted 
all  the  temptations  to  which,  in  such  a  whirl  of  pleasure,  pretty 
young  ladies  are  exposed,  is  more  than  I  can  say ;  but  when 
one  carries  in  one's  heart  a  love  so  deep  and  so  full  of  bliss  as 
I  felt  for  my  Frederick,  one  is  surely  armed  against  all  danger. 
And  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  was  he  true  to  me  ?  I  can 
only  say,  that  I  never  felt  any  doubt  about  it 


374  I^^  DOWN   YOUR   4RMS. 

When  the  summer  had  returned  to  the  land,  when  the  Grand 
Prix  was  over,  and  the  different  members  of  society  began  to 
quit  Paris,  some  to  Trouville  or  Dieppe,  Biarritz  or  Vichy, 
others  to  Baden  Baden,  and  a  third  set  to  their  ch&teaux, 
Princess  Mathilde  to  St.  Gratien,  and  the  court  to  Compibgne, 
then  we  were  besieged  with  requests  to  select  the  same  destina- 
tions for  travel,  and  with  invitations  to  country-houses  ;  but  we 
were  decidedly  indisposed  to  prolong  the  campaign  of  luxury 
and  pleasure  which  we  had  carried  out  in  the  winter,  into  a 
summer  one  also.  I  did  not  wish  to  return  at  once  to  Grumitz. 
I  feared  too  much  the  reawakening  of  painful  memories; 
besides,  we  should  not  have  found  there  the  solitude  we 
desired,  on  account  of  our  numerous  relations  and  neighbours. 
So  we  chose  once  more  for  our  resting-place  a  quiet  comer  of 
Switzerhind.  We  promised  our  friends  in  Paris  that  we  would 
come  back  next  winter,  and  went  on  our  summer  tour  with  the 
joy  of  schoolboys  going  for  their  holidays. 

Now  succeeded  a  time  of  real  refreshment.  Long  walks, 
long  hours  of  study,  long  hours  of  play  with  the  children,  and 
no  entries  in  the  red  volumes — which  last  was  a  sign  of  freedom 
from  care,  and  spiritual  peace. 

Europe  also  seemed  at  that  time  tolerably  free  from  care,  and 
peaceful.  At  least  no  "  black  spots  "  were  anywhere  visible. 
One  did  not  even  hear  any  more  talk  about  the  famous 
Revanche  de  Sadawa.  The  greatest  trouble  which  I  expe- 
rienced at  that  time  was  caused  by  the  universal  obligation  for 
defence  which  had  been  introduced  a  year  before  amongst  us 
Austrians.  That  my  Rudolf  some  time  or  other  must  become 
a  soldier — that  was  a  thing  I  could  not  bear.  And  yet  folks 
dream  of  freedom ! 

Frederick  tried  to  comfort  me.  "  A  year  of  *  volunteering  *  is 
not  much.''     I  shook  my  head 

"  Even  if  it  were  but  a  day  1  No  man  ought  to  be  compelled 
to  take  upon  himself  a  certain  office,  which  perhaps  he  hates, 
even  for  a  single  day ;  for  during  that  day  he  must  make  a 
show  of  the  opposite  of  what  he  feels — must  pretend  that  he  is 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  375 

doing  joyfully  what  he  really  hates — in  short,  he  is  obliged  to 
lie,  and  I  wanted  to  bring  up  my  son  to  be  true,  before  all 
things." 

"Then  he  ought  to  have  been  bora  one  or  two  centuries 
later,  my  dearest,"  replied  Frederick.  "  It  is  only  the  perfectly 
free  man  who  can  be  perfectly  true ;  and  we  are  still  poorly  off 
for  both  things — freedom  and  truth — in  our  days ;  that  becomes 
clearer  and  clearer  to  me  the  deeper  I  plunge  into  my  studies." 

Now,  in  this  retirement  Frederick  had  twice  the  leisure  for 
his  work,  and  he  set  about  it  with  true  ardour.  However 
happy  and  content  we  were  with  our  life  in  this  solitude,  still 
we  remained  firm  in  our  determination  to  spend  next  winter  in 
Paris  again.  This  time,  however,  it  was  not  with  the  view  of 
amusing  ourselves,  but  in  order  to  do  something  practical 
towards  the  fulfilment  of  the  task  of  our  lives.  In  this,  it  is 
true,  we  did  not  cherish  any  confidence  that  we  should  attain 
anything ;  but  when  a  man  sees  even  the  possibility  of  the 
shadow  of  a  chance  offered  him  to  contribute  anything  towards 
a  cause  which  he  recognises  as  the  holiest  cause  on  earth,  he 
feels  it  to  be  a  duty  which  he  cannot  refuse,  to  try  this  chance. 
Now,  in  recapitulating,  during  our  familiar  talks,  the  recollec- 
tions of  Paris,  we  had  thought  also  of  that  plan  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  which  had  come  to  our  ears  by  the  communications 
of  his  confidants — I  mean  the  plan  for  proposing  disarmament 
to  the  great  powers.  It  was  on  this  that  we  based  our  hopes 
and  our  projects.  Frederick's  researches  had  brought  into  his 
hand  Sully's  Memoirs^  in  which  the  plan  of  Henry  IV.  for 
peace  is  described  in  all  its  details.  We  meant  to  convey  an 
abstract  of  this  to  the  Emperor  of  the  French  ;  and  at  the  same 
time  to  try,  through  our  connections  in  Austria  and  Prussia,  to 
prepare  both  these  Governments  for  the  propositions  of  the 
French  Government  I  could  set  this  on  foot  by  the  means  of 
Minister  To-be-sure,  and  Frederick  had  at  Berlin  a  relative  who 
was  in  an  influential  political  position,  and  stood  very  well  at 
ooart. 

In  December,   which  was  the  time  we  meant  to  move  to 


376  ^V   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS, 

Paris,  we  were  prevented.  Our  treasure,  our  little  Sylvia,  fell 
ill.  What  anxious  hours  those  were !  Napoleon  III.  and 
Henry  IV.  of  course  were  then  put  in  the  background— our 
child  djring ! 

But  she  did  not  die.  In  two  weeks  all  danger  was  over. 
Only  the  physician  forbade  us  to  travel  during  the  worst  of  the 
winter's  cold.     So  we  put  off  our  departure  till  March. 

This  sickness  and  recovery,  the  danger  and  the  preservation 
— what  a  shock  they  had  given  our  hearts  !  and  how  much — 
though  I  thought  that  no  longer  possible — they  had  brought  them 
more  near  to  each  other  still !  To  tremble  in  unison  before 
a  horrid  disaster — one  which  each  fears  the  more  from  seeing 
the  other's  despair,  and  to  weep  tears  of  joy  in  common  when 
this  disaster  has  been  averted — are  things  which  have  a  most 
mighty  influence  in  welding  souls  together. 

Forebodings?  No,  there  were  none.  If  there  had  been 
Paris  would  not  have  made  on  me  the  cheerful  impression  of 
promised  pleasure  which  it  did  on  one  sunny  afternoon  of 
March,  1870,  on  our  arrival.  One  knows  now  what  horrors 
were  brooding  over  that  city  after  a  very  short  interval ;  but 
not  the  faintest  anticipation  of  trouble  arose  in  my  mind. 

We  had  already  hired  beforehand,  through  the  agent,  John 
Arthur,  the  same  little  palace  in  which  we  had  lived  last 
year,  and  at  its  door  was  waiting  for  us  our  mattre  d'hdtel  of  the 
previous  year.  As  we  drove  across  the  Champs  Elys^es  to 
reach  our  dwelling,  it  was  just  the  hour  for  the  Bois,  and  several 
of  our  old  acquaintances  met  us  and  exchanged  joyful  recogni- 
tions. The  numerous  little  barrows  of  violets  which  were  dragged 
about  the  streets  of  Paris  that  year  filled  the  air  with  the  promise 
of  spring;  the  sunbeams  were  sparkling  and  playing  in  rainbows 
on  the  fountains  of  the  Rond-point^  making  little  reflections  on 
the  carriage  lamps  and  the  harness  of  the  many  carriages. 
Amongst  others,  the  beautiful  empress  was  driving  in  a  carriage 
harnessed  ^  la  Daumtmt.  She  passed  as,  and,  recognising  m^ 
made  a  gesture  of  salutation. 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARIfS.  377 

There  are  some  special  pictures  or  scenes  which  photograph 
or  phonograph  themselves  on  our  memory,  along  with  the 
feelings  that  accompany  them,  and  some  of  the  words  that  are 
spoken  at  them.  "  This  Paris  is  truly  lovely,"  cried  Frederick 
at  this  point,  and  my  feeling  was  a  childish  self-congratula- 
tion at  the  coming  treat.  Had  I  known  what  was  coming  to 
me,  and  to  this  whole  city,  now  bathed  in  splendour  and 
rejoicing ! 

This  time  we  abstained  from  throwing  ourselves,  as  we  had 
done  the  year  before,  into  the  whirlpool  of  worldly  amusements. 
We  announced  that  we  would  not  accept  any  dancing  invitations, 
and  kept  ourselves  apart  from  the  great  receptions.  Even  the 
theatre  we  did  not  visit  so  often — only  when  some  piece  made 
a  great  impression — and  so  it  came  about  that  we  spent  most 
evenings  at  home  alone,  or  in  the  society  of  a  few  friends. 

As  to  our  plans  with  regard  to  the  idea  of  the  emperor  about 
disarmament,  we  got  on  but  badly  with  them.  Napoleon  III. 
had  not,  indeed,  given  up  his  idea  altogether,  but  the  present 
time,  it  was  said,  was  not  at  all  suited  for  carrying  it  out  In 
the  circle  around  the  throne  a  conviction  had  grown  up  that 
that  throne  stood  on  no  very  firm  footing — a  great  discontent 
was  boiling  and  seething  among  the  people,  in  order  to  repress 
which  all  the  police  and  censorship  regulations  were  made  more 
stringent,  and  the  only  consequence  of  this  was  greater  discon- 
tent The  only  thing,  said  certain  people,  which  could  give 
renewed  splendour  and  security  to  the  dynasty  would  be  a 
successful  campaign.  It  is  true  there  was  no  near  prospect  of 
this,  but  all  mention  of  disarmament  would  be  a  total  and 
complete  mistake,  for  thereby  the  whole  Bonaparte-nimbus 
would  be  destroyed,  which  was  undoubtedly  founded  on  the 
heritage  of  glory  of  the  first  Napoleon.  We  had  also  received  no 
very  cheering  answers  to  our  inquiries  on  these  subjects  horn 
Prussia  and  Austria.  There  people  had  entered  on  an  epoch 
of  expansion  of  the  "  defensive  forces  *'  (the  word  "  army  " 
began  to  be  unfashionable),  and  the  word  "  disarmament "  fell 
on  this  like  a  gross  discord.     On  the  contrary,  in  order  to  obtain 


37^  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

the  blessings  of  peace,  the  "defensive  power"  must  be 
increased — the  French  were  not  to  be  trusted — the  Russians 
neither — and  the  Italians,  most  certainly  not — they  would  fall 
on  Triest  and  Trent  at  once,  if  they  had  the  opportunity — in 
short,  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  nurse  the  Landwehr  system 
with  all  the  care  possible. 

"The  time  is  not  ripe,"  said  Frederick,  on  our  receiving 
communications  such  as  these,  "and  I  must,  I  suppose,  in 
reason  give  up  the  hope  that  I  personally  may  be  able  to  help 
in  hastening  the  ripening  of  that  time,  or  even  see  the  fruits  I 
long  for  blossoming.  What  I  can  contribute  is  mean  enough. 
But  from  the  hour  that  I  saw  that  this  thing,  however  mean,  is 
my  duty,  it  has  in  spite  of  all  become  the  greatest  thing  of  all 
to  me,  so  I  keep  on." 

But  if  for  the  present  the  project  of  disarmament  had  been 
dropped,  I  had  yet  one  comfort — there  was  no  war  in  sight. 
The  war  party  which  existed  in  the  court  and  among  the  people, 
and  whose  opinion  was  that  the  dynasty  must  be  "  rebaptised 
in  blood,"  and  that  another  little  taste  of  glory  must  be 
provided  for  the  people,  were  obliged  to  renounce  their  plat, 
of  attack  and  their  bewitching  "little  campaign  on  the  Rhine 
frontier".  For  France  possessed  no  allies;  great  drought 
prevailed  in  the  country ;  a  dearth  of  forage  was  to  be  antici- 
pated ;  the  army  horses  had  to  be  sold  ;  there  was  no  "  question  " 
in  agitation ;  the  contingent  of  recruits  had  been  diminished  by 
the  legislative  body;  in  short,  so  OUivier  declared  from  the 
tribune — "  the  peace  of  Europe  is  assured  ". 

Assured/  I  rejoiced  over  the  word.  It  was  repeated  in  ah 
the  papers,  and  many  thousands  rejoiced  with  me.  For  what 
can  there  be  better  for  the  majority  of  men  than  assured  peace  ? 

How  much,  however,  that  security  which  was  announced 
by  a  statesman  on  June  3,  1870,  was  worth  we  now  all  know. 
And  even  at  the  time  we  might  have  known  this  much,  that 
assurances  of  that  kind  from  statesmen,  though  the  public 
always  receives  them  again  with  the  same  innocent  trust,  really 
contain  no  guarantee — literally  none.    The  European  situation 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  379 

flhowi  no  question  in  agitation — therefore  peace  is  secure. 
What  feeble  logic  1  Questions  may  come  into  agitation  any 
moment ;  it  is  not  till  we  have  prepared  some  means  against 
such  a  contingency  other  than  war,  that  we  can  ever  be  secure 
againit  wit. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IVe  remain  in  Paris  to  get  ready  a  new  house. — Tlu  **  question  " 
between  France  and  Prussia, — Candidature  of  Prince  Hohen- 
tollemfor  the  crown  of  Spain. — The  war  rumours  and  the 
speeches  in  the  Chamber  become  menacing. — The  Hohen- 
tollem  candidature  withdrawn. — Further  demands  of 
France, — Threatening  debate  in  the  French  Chamber. — 
War  declared. — Excitement  and  enthusiasm  in  Paris. — 
With  which  side  should  we  sympathise  1 — The  opposing 
manifestoes. —  We  linger  in  Paris. — Opinions  about  war 
of  eminent  French  writers. — Proclamations  of  the  two 
armies, — Suret  history, 

Paris  society  again  dispersed  in  all  directions.  We,  however, 
remained  behind  on  business.  For  an  extraordinarily  advan- 
tageous bargain  had  been  offered  to  us.  Through  the  sudden 
departure  of  an  American  a  little,  half-finished  hotel,  in  the 
Avenue  de  Tlmperatrice,  had  had  to  be  offered  for  sale,  and 
at  a  price  which  did  not  amount  to  much  more  than  the  sum 
already  expended  on  the  decoration  and  furnishing  of  the  thing 
itself.  As  we  had  already  the  intention  of  spending  in  future 
some  months  of  each  year  in  Paris,  and  as  the  purchase  in 
question  was  also  at  the  same  time  an  excellent  bargain,  we 
closed  with  it.  We  wished  to  superintend  the  completion  our- 
selves, and  for  this  purpose  stopped  in  Paris.  The  decoration 
of  one's  own  nest  is,  besides,  such  a  pleasurable  task  that  we 
willingly  endured  the  unpleasantness  of  staying  in  a  city  the 
whole  summer.  Besides,  we  had  plenty  of  houses  to  which  we 
could  resort  for  company.     The  chateau  of  Princess  Mathilde, 

(380) 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  38^ 

St.  Gfatien,  then  Chiteau  Mouchy,  and  next  Baron  Rothschild's 
place,  Ferribres,  and  other  summer  residences  besides  of  our 
acquaintance,  were  situated  near  Paris,  and  we  arranged  once 
or  twice  a  week  to  pay  a  visit,  now  to  one  of  them,  now  to 
another. 

It  was,  I  recollect,  in  the  salon  of  Princess  Mathilde  that  I 
first  heard  of  "the  question"  that  was  soon  to  come  into 
"agitation". 

The  company  was  sitting,  after  dSjedner^  on  the  terrace, 
looking  on  to  the  park.  Who  were  all  the  people  there  ?  I  do 
not  recollect  them  all  now ;  only  two  of  the  persons  present 
remain  in  my  memory,  Taine  and  Renan.  The  conversation 
was  a  very  lively  one,  and  I  recollect  that  it  was  Renan  chiefly 
who  led  the  talk,  sparkling  with  esprit  and  witticisms.  The  author 
of  the  VU  dejhus  is  an  example  that  a  man  may  be  incredibly 
ugly  and  yet  exercise  an  incredible  fascination. 

Now  the  talk  turned  upon  politics.  A  candidate  had  been 
sought  for  the  crown  of  Spain.  A  prince  of  Hohenzollern  was 
to  receive  the  crown.  I  had  scarcely  been  listening,  for  what 
could  the  throne  of  Spain  or  he  who  was  to  sit  upon  it  have  to 
do  with  me  or  all  these  nonchalant  folks  here?  But  then  some 
one  said : — 

"  A  Hohenzollern  ?     France  would  not  permit  that !" 

The  words  cut  me  to  the  heart,  for  what  did  that  "  not  per- 
mit" imply?  When  such  an  utterance  comes  from  any  country 
one  sees  with  one's  mind's  eye  the  statue  personifying  that  country 
as  a  gigantic  virgin,  her  head  thrown  back  in  defiance,  her  hand 
on  her  sword. 

The  conversation,  however,  soon  turned  to  another  subject 
How  full  of  tremendous  results  this  question  of  the  Spanish 
throne  would  be  none  of  us  yet  suspected.  I,  of  course,  did  not 
either.  Only,  that  arrogant  "  France  would  not  permit  that " 
stuck  in  my  memory  like  a  discord,  and  along  with  it  the  whole 
scenery  did  so  in  which  it  was  spoken. 

From  that  time  the  question  of  the  Spanish  throne  became 
constantly  more  loud  and  more  pressing.     Every  day  the  space 


38a  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

became  larger  which  it  occupied  in  the  newspapers  and  In 
conversations  in  the  salons^  and  I  know  that  it  bored  me  in  the 
highest  degree,  this  Hohenzollern  candidature :  soon  there  was 
nothing  else  spoken  of.  And  it  was  spoken  of  in  an  offended 
tone,  as  if  nothing  more  insulting  to  France  could  take  place. 
Most  people  saw  behind  it  a  provocation  to  war  on  the  part  of 
Prussia.  But  it  was  clear,  so  it  was  said,  that  "  France  could 
not  permit  such  a  thing,  so,  if  the  Hohenzollems  persist  in  it, 
that  is  a  simple  challenge  ".  I  could  not  understand  that ;  but 
in  other  respects  I  was  free  from  anxiety.  We  received  letters 
from  Berlin,  telling  us  from  a  well-instructed  quarter  that  not 
the  slightest  importance  was  attached  at  court  to  the  succession 
of  a  Hohenzollern  to  the  Spanish  crown.  And,  therefore,  we 
were  much  more  occupied  with  the  work  at  our  house  than 
with  politics. 

But  gradually  we  became  more  attentive  to  the  subject  for 
all  that.  As,  before  the  storm,  a  certain  rustling  of  leaves  goes 
through  the  forest,  so,  before  war,  a  rustle  of  certain  voices 
goes  through  the  world.  "  Nous  aurons  la  guerre — nous 
aurons  la  guerre,"  was  what  resounded  in  the  air  of  Paris. 
Then  an  unspeakable  anxiety  possessed  me.  Not  for  my  own 
people — for  we,  as  Austrians,  were  at  first  out  of  the  game. 
On  the  contrary,  we  might  possibly  have  some  "  satisfaction  " 
offered  to  us — the  well-known  "revenge  for  Sadowa**.  But 
we  had  untaught  ourselves  the  habit  of  looking  at  war  fsom 
a  national  point  of  view ;  and  what  war  is  from  the  point  of 
view  of  humanity — of  the  highest  humanity —is  surely  notorious. 
That  is  expressed  in  the  following  words  which  I  heard  spoken 
by  Guy  de  Maupassant  : — 

"Quand  je  songe  seulement  k  ce  mot  *la  guerre'  il  me  vicnt 
un  effarement,  comme  si  Ton  me  parlait  de  sorcellerie,  d'inquisi- 
tion,  d'une  chose  lontaine,  finie,  abominable,  contre  nature  ". 

When  the  news  arrived  that  the  crown  had  been  offered  by 
Prim  to  Prince  Leopold,  the  Duke  of  Grammont  made  a 
speech  in  Parliament,  which  was  received  with  great  approba- 
tion, to  the  following  effect : — 


L4T   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  383 

"  We  do  not  meddle  with  the  affairs  of  foreign  nations,  but 
we  do  not  believe  that  respect  for  the  rights  of  a  neighbouring 
state  binds  us  to  permit  a  foreign  power,  by  seating  one  of  its 
own  princes  on  the  throne  of  Charies  V.,  to  destroy,  to  our 
detriment,  the  equilibrium  which  exists  between  the  states  of 
Europe  (Oh  that  equilibrium  1  What  war-loving  hypocrite 
invented  that  hollow  phrase  ?),  and  so  bring  into  danger  the 
interests,  the  honour  of  France  ". 

I  know  a  tale  of  George  Sand  named  Gribouille.  This 
Gribouille  has  the  peculiarity,  when  rain  is  threatened,  of 
plunging  into  the  river,  for  fear  of  getting  wet.  Whenever  I 
hear  that  war  is  contemplated  in  order  to  avert  threatened 
dangers,  I  can  never  help  thinking  of  Gribouille.  A  whole 
branch  of  HohenzoUerns  might  very  well  have  seated  them- 
selves on  Charles  V.'s  throne,  and  many  other  thrones  as  well, 
without  exposing  the  interests  or  the  honour  of  France  to  one 
thousandth  part  of  the  damage  that  resulted  to  them  from  this 
bold  "  We  cannot  permit  it  ". 

"  The  case,"  the  speaker  continued,  "  will,  as  we  most 
confidently  believe,  not  occur.  We  reckon,  in  this  regard,  on 
the  wisdom  of  the  German  and  the  friendship  of  the  Spanish 
people.  But  if  it  should  turn  out  otherwise,  tken,  gentlemen, 
we,  strong  in  your  support  and  that  of  the  nation,  shall 
know  how  to  do  our  duty,  without  vacillation  and  without 
weakness."    (Loud  applause.) 

From  that  time  began  in  the  press  the  cry  for  war.  It  was 
Girardin  in  particular,  who  could  not  inflame  his  countrymen 
sufficiently  to  punish  the  unheard-of  audacity  contained  in  this 
candidature  for  the  throne.  It  would  be  unworthy  of  the  dignity 
of  France  not  to  interpose  her  veto  upon  it.  Prussia,  it  is  true, 
would  not  give  in,  for  she  is  bent,  mad  as  she  is,  on  conjuring 
up  war.  Intoxicated  by  her  success  of  1866,  she  believes  that 
she  may  extend  her  march  of  victory  and  robbery  on  the 
Rhine  also ;  but,  thank  God,  we  are  ready  to  baulk  all  these 
appetites  of  the  Pickelhaubers.  And  so  it  went  on,  in  the 
same  key.     Napoleon  III.,  it  is  true,  as  we  found  out  through 


384  L4T  DOWN  YOUK  A&MS. 

persons  who  were  about  him,  still  wished,  aa  before,  for  the 
preservation  of  peace ;  but  most  of  the  people  of  his  entourage 
now  thought  that  a  war  was  inevitable — that,  since  apart  from 
all  this  there  was  discontent  among  the  people  with  the 
Government,  the  best  thing  that  could  be  done  to  secure  the 
respect  of  the  country,  anxious  as  it  was  for  glory,  would  be  to 
carry  out  a  successful  war.     "  II  faut  faire  grand." 

And  now  inquiries  were  made  of  all  the  European  Cabinets 
about  the  situation.  Each  declared  that  they  wished  for 
peace.  In  Germany  a  manifesto  was  published,  originating  in 
popular  articles  signed  by  Liebknecht  amongst  others,  wherein 
it  was  said  ^'  the  mere  thought  of  a  war  between  Germany  and 
France  is  a  crime  *'. 

Benedetti  was  sent  with  the  charge  of  demanding  from  the 
King  of  Prussia  that  he  would  forbid  Prince  Leopold  to  assume 
the  crown.  King  William  was  at  that  moment  taking  the 
waters  at  Ems.  Benedetti  went  there,  and  got  an  audience  on 
July  9. 

What  would  the  result  be?  I  waited  for  the  news  with 
trembling. 

The  answer  of  the  king  simply  said  that  he  could  not 
forbid  anything  to  a  prince  who  had  attained  adult  years. 

This  answer  sent  the  war  party  into  triumphant  joy.  "  There 
— will  you  suffer  that  ?  Do  they  want  to  provoke  us  to  the 
utmost?  That  the  head  of  the  house  cannot  command  or 
forbid  anything  to  one  of  its  members !  Ridiculous  !  It  is 
clearly  a  made-up  plot — the  Hohenzollerns  want  to  get  a  footing 
in  Spain,  and  then  fall  upon  our  country  from  the  east  and 
south  at  once.  And  are  we  to  wait  for  that  ?  Are  we  to  be 
content  to  take  with  humility  the  utter  disregard  of  our  protest  ? 
Surely  not  We  know  what  honour,  what  patriotism,  commands 
us  to  do." 

Ever  louder  and  louder,  ever  more  and  more  threatening 
sounded  the  storm-warnings.  Then  on  July  12  came  a  piece 
of  news  which  filled  me  with  delight.  Don  Salusto  Olozaga 
annoimced  officially  to  the  French  Government  that  Prince 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  385 

Leopold  of  HohenzoJlem,  in  order  not  to  give  any  pretext  for 
war,  refused  to  assume  the  crown  offered  to  him. 

Now,  thank  God,  the  entire  "  question  "  is  thus  simply  put 
aside.  The  news  was  communicated  to  the  Chamber  at  1 2  at 
noon,  and  Ollivier  declared  that  this  put  an  end  to  the  dispute. 
Yet,  on  the  same  day,  troops  and  war  material  were  forwarded 
to  Metz  (publicly  said  to  be  in  pursuance  of  previous  orders), 
and  in  the  same  sitting  Clement  Duvernois  put  the  following 
question : — 

"What  securities  have  we  that  Prussia  will  not  originate 
fresh  complications,  like  this  Spanish  candidature?  That 
should  be  provided  against." 

There  Gribouille  comes  up  again.  It  may  happen,  perhaps, 
at  some  time,  that  a  trifling  rain  may  threaten  to  wet  us ;  so  let 
us  jump  into  the  river  at  once  I 

And  so  Benedetti  was  despatched  again  to  Ems ;  this 
jime  to  demand  of  the  King  of  Prussia  that  he  would 
forbid  Prince  Leopold  once  for  all,  and  for  all  future  time,  to 
revive  his  candidature.  What  could  follow  such  an  attempt  at 
dictating  a  course  of  action,  which  the  party  on  whom  the 
demand  is  made  is  not  competent  to  carry  out,  except  an 
impatient  shrug  of  the  shoulders?  Those  who  made  the 
demand  must  have  known  as  much. 

There  was  another  memorable  sitting  on  July  15.  Ollivier 
demanded  a  credit  of  500,000,000  frs.  for  the  war.  Thiers 
opposed  it.  Ollivier  replied.  He  took  on  himself  to  justify 
before  the  bar  of  history  what  had  been  done.  The  King  of 
Prussia  had  refused  to  receive  the  French  envoy,  and  had 
notified  this  to  the  Government  in  a  letter.  The  Left  wanted 
to  see  this  letter.  The  majority  forbade,  by  clamour  and  by  a 
counter-vote,  the  production  of  the  document,  which  probably 
had  no  existence.  This  majority  supported  any  demand  made 
by  the  Government  in  favour  of  the  war.  This  patriotic 
readiness  for  sacrifice,  which  would  accept  even  ruin  without 
hesiution,  was  of  course  again  applauded  becomingly  with  the 
usual  ready-made  turns  of  sentence. 


386  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

July  16.  England  made  attempts  to  prevent  the  war.  Im 
vain.  Ah  !  if  there  had  been  an  arbitration  court  established 
how  easily  and  simply  might  such  a  trivial  dispute  have  been 
decided. 

July  19.  The  French  chargi  d' affaires  m  Berlin  handed  the 
Prussian  Government  the  declaration  of  war. 

Declaration  of  war  !  Three  words,  which  can  be  pronounced 
quite  calmly.  But  what  is  connected  with  them  ?  The 
beginning  of  an  extra-political  action,  and  thus,  along  with 
it,  half-a-million  sentences  of  death. 

This  document  also  I  entered  in  the  red  volumes.  It  runs 
thus  : — 

The  Government  of  His  Majesty  the  Emperor  of  the  French  could 
not  regard  the  design  of  raising  a  Prussian  prince  to  the  throne  of  Spain 
otherwise  than  as  an  attack  on  the  territorial  security  of  France,  and  has 
therefore  found  itself  compelled  to  request  from  His  Majesty  the  King  of 
Prussia  the  assurance  that  such  a  combination  should  never  again  occur 
with  his  consent.  As  His  Majesty  refuses  any  such  assurance,  and  has, 
on  the  contrary,  declared  to  our  ambassador  that  he  must  reserve  to 
himself  the  possibility  of  such  an  event,  and  inquire  into  the  circumstances, 
the  Imperial  Government  cannot  help  recognisingin  this  declaration  of 
the  king  an  arriire-pensee^  which,  for  France  and  for  the  European 
equilibrium  .  .  .  (There  it  comes  again — this  famous  equilibrium.  Look 
at  this  shelf,  and  the  precious  china  on  it — it  is  tottering ;  the  dishes  may 
fall,  so  let  us  smash  it  down.)  This  declaration  has  assumed  a  still 
graver  character  from  the  communication  which  has  been  made  to  the 
Cabinet  of  the  refusal  to  receive  the  emperor's  ambassador,  and  to 
introduce,  in  common  with  him,  a  new  method  of  solution.  (So,  by 
such  things  as  these,  by  a  more  or  less  friendly  conversation  between 
rulers  and  diplomatists,  the  fate  of  nations  may  be  decided.)  In  conse- 
quence of  this  the  French  Government  has  thought  it  its  duty  (!)  without 
delay  to  think  of  the  defence  (Yes,  yes,  defence :  never  attack)  of  its 
outraged  dignity  and  its  outraged  interests,  and  being  determined  to 
employ  for  that  end  all  means  which  are  offered  by  the  position  which 
has  been  imposed  upon  it,  regards  itself  from  this  time  forward  as  in 
a  state  of  war  with  Prussia. 

State  of  war  I  Does  the  man  think  who  puts  these  words  on 
paper,  on  the  green  cloth  of  his  writing-table,  that  he  is  plunging 
his  peo  in  flames,  in  tears  of  blood,  in  the  poison  of  plague  ? 


L4T  DOWN  TOUR  AUCt.  387 

And  10  the  storm  is  unchained,  this  time  on  account  of  a 
king  being  sought  for  a  vacant  throne,  and  as  the  consequence 
of  a  negotiation  undertaken  between  two  monarchsl  Must 
Kant  then  be  right  in  his  first  definitive  condition  for  ever- 
lasting peace  ?  "  The  civil  constitution  in  every  state  should 
be  republican.**  To  be  sure,  the  effect  of  this  article  would  be 
to  remove  many  causes  of  war ;  for  history  shows  how  many 
campaigns  have  been  undertaken  for  dynastic  questions,  and 
the  whole  establishment  of  monarchical  power  rests  assuredly 
on  successfiil  conduct  of  war — still  republics  also  are  warlike. 
It  is  the  spirity  the  old  savage  spirit  which  lights  up  hatred, 
lust  of  plunder,  and  ambition  of  conquest  in  peoples,  whether 
governed  in  one  form  or  another. 

I  recollect  what  an  altogether  peculiar  humour  seized  me 
at  this  time,  when  the  Franco-German  war  was  in  preparation 
and  then  broke  out.  The  stormy  sultriness  before,  the 
howling  tempest  after  its  declaration.  The  whole  population 
was  in  a  fever,  and  who  can  keep  himself  aloof  from  such  an 
epidemic  ?  Naturally,  according  to  old  custom,  the  beginning 
of  the  campaign  was  at  once  looked  on  as  a  triumphal  proces- 
sion— that  is  no  more  than  patriotic  duty.  "A  Berlin,  k 
Berlin,"  was  shouted  through  the  streets  and  from  the  outside 
of  the  omnibusses — the  Marseillaise  at  every  street  comer,  '*  Le 
jour  de  gloire  est  arriv^  ".  At  every  theatrical  representation 
the  first  actress  or  singer,  at  the  opera  it  was  Marie  Sass,  had 
to  come  before  the  curtain  in  a  Jeanne  d*Arc  costume,  waving 
a  flag,  and  sing  this  battle  song,  which  was  received  by  the 
audience  standing,  and  in  which  they  often  joined  We  also 
were  among  the  spectators  one  evening,  Frederick  and  I,  and 
we  also  had  to  rise  from  our  seats.  I  say  "  had  to,**  not  from 
any  external  pressure,  for  we  could  of  course  have  withdrawn 
into  the  back  of  the  box,  but  ''had  to,**  because  we  were 
tiectrificd, 

"  Look,  Martha,**  Frederick  explained  to  me,  "  a  spark  like 
that  which  runs  from  one  man  to  another  and  makes  this  whole 
mass  rise  to  one  united  and  excited  heart-beat,  that  is  UvcJ* 


388  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?    It  is  surely  a  song  of  hatred  :— 

That  their  unholy  blood 
May  sink  into  our  furrows.** 

**  That  is  no  matter,  united  hatred  also  is  one  form  of  love. 
Wherever  two  or  more  unite  in  one  common  feeling,  they  love 
each  other.  Let  but  a  higher  conception  than  that  of  the 
nation,  i.e.i  of  mankind  and  of  humanity,  once  be  seized  as  the 
general  idea,  and  then " 

"Ah,"  I  sighed,  "  when  will  that  be?" 

"When?  that  is  a  very  relative  term.  In  regard  to  the 
duration  of  our  life,  never;  in  regard  to  that  of  our  race, 
to-morrow." 


When  war  has  broken  out  all  the  subjects  of  neutral  states 
divide  themselves  into  two  camps,  one  takes  the  side  of  the 
one,  the  other  of  the  opposite  party;  it  is  like  a  great  fluctua- 
ting wager,  in  which  every  one  has  a  share. 

We  too — Frederick  and  I — with  which  side  should  we  sympa- 
thise, which  wish  to  conquer  ?  As  Austrians  we  should  have 
been  fully  justified,  *'  patriotically,"  in  wishing  to  see  our  victor 
in  the  former  war  vanquished  in  this  one.  Besides,  it  is  again 
natural  that  one  should  give  the  greater  sympathy  to  those  in 
whose  midst  one  is  Hving,  and  with  whose  feelings  one  is 
involuntarily  infected ;  and  we  were  then  surrounded  by  the 
French.  Still,  Frederick  was  of  Prussian  descent,  and  were 
we  not  more  allied  with  the  Germans,  whose  speech  even  was 
my  own,  than  with  their  adversaries  ?  Besides,  had  not  the 
declaration  of  war  proceeded  from  the  French,  on  such  trifling 
grounds — nay,  not  grounds,  but  pretexts  ?  And  must  we  not 
conclude  from  that  that  the  Prussian  cause  was  the  more  just 
one,  and  that  they  were  going  into  battle  only  as  defenders,  and 
in  obedience  to  compulsion  ?  King  William  had  spoken  with 
much  justice  in  his  speech  from  the  throne  on  July  19  s— 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  389 

The  German  and  the  French  nations,  both  enjoying  equally  the 
blessings  of  Christian  training  and  increasing  prosperity,  have  been  called 
to  a  more  holy  strife  than  the  bloody  one  of  arms.  The  rulers  of  France, 
however,  have  contrived  to  make  profit  for  their  own  personal  interests 
and  passions  out  of  the  justifiable  but  irritable  self-consciousness  of  our 
great  neighbour  by  means  of  deliberate  deception. 

The  Emperor  Napoleon,  on  his  side,  published  the  following 
proclamation : — 

In  view  of  the  presumptuous  pretensions  of  Prussia,  we  were  obliged 
to  make  protests.  These  were  treated  with  scorn.  Transactions^ 
followed  which  showed  their  contempt  for  us.  Our  country  has  been 
deeply  irritated  at  this,  and  at  present  the  cry  for  war  resounds  firom  one 
end  of  France  to  the  other.  There  remains  nothing  possible  for  us 
except  to  trust  our  fate  to  the  arbitrament  of  arms.  We  are  not  making 
war  on  Germany,  whose  independence  we  respect.  It  is  the  object  of 
our  best  wishes  that  the  people  composing  the  great  German  nationality 
should  dispose  freely  of  their  own  fate.  As  far  as  concerns  ourselves,  we 
desire  to  set  up  a  state  of  things  which  will  guarantee  our  security  and 
make  our  futvure  safe.  We  wish  to  obtain  a  lasting  peace,  founded  on  the 
true  interests  of  the  ~:^ple8.  We  wish  for  the  termination  of  this 
miserable  situation,  in  which  all  the  nations  are  expending  their  resources 
in  arming  on  all  sides  against  each  other. 

What  a  lesson!  what  a  mighty  lesson  speaks  from  this 
writing,  when  compared  with  the  events  which  ensued  upon  it ! 
This  campaign,  then,  was  undertaken  by  France  in  order  to 

^  These  transactions  were  described  eighteen  years  later  as  follows : 
General  Boulanger  writes  in  his  work  on  the  campaign  of  1870  :  "  After 
having  obtained  a  legitimate  satisfaction  we  wanted  to  impose  a  humi- 
liation on  the  King  of  Prussia ;  and  in  doing  so  we  went  on  to  take  a 
diplomatic  attitude  which  was  aggressive,  nay,  almost  inconsistent.  The 
formal  renunciation  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Hohenzollern  had  been  gained 
by  us,  and  we  had,  besides,  the  assent  of  the  King  of  Prussia  to  this 
renunciation.  The  reparation  was  sufficient,  for  it  covered  the  respective 
domains  of  the  interests  of  France,  the  rights  of  France,  and  the  obli- 
gations of  the  chief  of  the  house  of  Hohenzollern.  We  ought  to  have 
■topped  there.  Our  Government  pushed  on  farther.  It  wanted  a  cate- 
.  gorical  engagement  firom  King  William  for  the  future.  By  carrying  our 
claims  so  high  it  changed  the  object  and  ground  of  the  strife.  It 
converted  U  into  m  direct  challenge  to  the  sovereign  of  Prussia." 


390  LAY  DOWN  YOUK  ARMt. 

attain  security— to  attain  lasting  peace  ?  And  what  came  of 
it?  CannU  terrible  and  lasting  enmity— enmity  which  still 
prevails.  No;  as  with  coal  you  cannot  white-wash,  as  with 
assafoetida  you  cannot  diffuse  a  sweet  perfume,  so  neither  with 
war  can  you  make  peace  secure.  This  "miserable  situation,"  to 
which  Napoleon  alludes,  how  much  has  it  not  changed  for  the 
w«rse  since  then  1  The  emperor  was  in  earnest,  thoroughly  in 
earnest  about  the  scheme  for  setting  on  foot  a  European 
disarmament.  I  have  it  quite  certainly  from  his  nearest  rela- 
tions ;  but  the  war  party  put  pressure  on  him— coerced  him — 
and  he  yielded.  And  yet  he  could  not  refrain,  even  in  the  war 
proclamation,  from  harping  on  his  favourite  idea.  Its  carrying 
out  was  only  to  be  deferred.  "After  the  campaign" — 
"  after  the  victory,''  said  he,  to  console  himself.  It  turned  out 
otherwise. 

So,  on  which  side  were  our  sympathies?  If  one  has  got  to 
the  point  of  detesting  all  war  in  and  for  itself,  as  was  the  case 
with  Frederick  and  me,  the  genuine,  pure,  '*  passionate  attach- 
ment **  to  either  side  can  exist  no  more.  One's  only  feeling  is 
*'  Oh  that  it  had  never  begun — this  campaign  1  Oh  that  it  were 
only  already  over ! " 

I  did  not  think  that  the  existing  war  would  last  long,  or  have 
important  consequences.  Two  or  three  battles  won  here  and 
there,  and  then  there  would  be  parleys  for  certain,  and  the  thing 
would  be  brought  to  an  end.  What  were  they  really  fighting 
for  ?  Literally  for  nothing.  The  whole  thing  was  more  of  an 
armed  promenade,  undertaken  by  the  French  from  love  of 
knightly  adventure,  by  the  Germans  from  brave  feelings  of 
defensive  duty.  A  few  sabre-cuts  would  be  exchanged,  and 
the  adversaries  would  shake  hands  again.  Fool  that  I  was  1 
As  if  the  consequences  of  a  war  remained  in  any  proportion  to 
the  causes  which  produced  it  It  is  its  course  which  determines 
its  consequences. 

We  should  have  been  glad  to  leave  Paris,  for  all  the  enthu- 
siasm which  the  whole  population  displayed  produced  the  most* 
painful  effect  on  us.     But  the  way  eastward  was  barred  for  the 


LAT  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS.  39 1 

present,  and  the  business  of  our  house-buflding  detained  us. 
In  short,  we  stayed.  We  had  hardly  any  society  connections 
left.  Everybody  that  could  anyhow  do  so  had  fled  from  Paris  ; 
and  even  of  those  who  remained,  no  one  under  present  circum- 
stances even  thought  of  issuing  invitations.  A  few,  however, 
of  our  acquaintances  among  the  literary  circles,  who  were  still 
in  the  city,  we  did  frequently  visit.  Just  at  this  phase  of  the 
commencing  war,  it  interested  Frederick  to  make  himself 
acquainted  with  the  judgments  and  views  then  entertained  by 
the  master  spirits  of  the  time.  There  was  an  author,  then  quite 
young,  who  later  on  attained  much  fame,  Guy  de  Maupassant, 
some  of  whose  utterances,  which  penetrated  into  my  soul,  I 
entered  in  the  red  volumes  : — 

War — if  I  only  think  of  the  word  a  horror  comes  over  me,  as  if  people 
were  talking  to  me  about  witches,  about  the  inquisition,  about  some  far* 
away,  overmastering,  horrible,  unnatural  thing.  War — to  fight  each  other, 
strangle,  cut  each  other  to  pieces  I  And  we  have  amongst  us  at  this  day, 
in  our  times,  with  our  culture,  with  such  an  extension  of  science,  with  so 
high  a  grade  of  development  as  we  believe  ourselves  to  have  attained — we 
have  schools,  where  people  are  taught  to  kill,  to  kill  at  a  good  distance, 
and  a  good  round  number  at  a  time.  What  is  wonderful  is  that  the 
people  do  not  rise  up  against  it,  that  the  whole  of  society  does  not  revolt 
at  the  bare  word — ^war  1 

Every  man  who  governs  is  just  as  much  bound  to  avoid  war  as  a  ship's 
captain  is  bound  to  avoid  shipwreck.  If  a  captain  has  lost  a  ship  he  is 
brought  before  a  court  and  tried,  so  that  it  may  be  known  whether  he  has 
been  guilty  of  negligence.  Why  should  not  a  Government  be  put  on 
its  trial  whenever  a  war  has  been  declared  ?  If  the  people  understood  it, 
if  they  refused  to  allow  themselves  to  be  killed  without  cause,  there  would 
be  an  end  of  war. 

I  had  also  an  opportunity  of  reading  a  letter,  written  by 
Gustave  Flaubert  to  George  Sand  in  the  early  days  of  July,  just 
after  the  outbreak  of  the  war.     Here  it  is : — 

I  am  in  despair  at  the  stupidity  of  my  countrymen.  The  incorrigible 
barbarity  of  men  fills  me  with  deep  grief.  This  enthusiasm,  which  is 
inspired  by  no  idea,  makes  me  wish  to  die  in  order  to  see  no  more  of  it. 
These  good  Frenchmen  wish  to  fight  (i)  because  they  believe  themselves 


393  LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMIL 

challenged  by  Prassia,  (2)  because  savagery  is  the  natural  state  of  men, 
(3)  because  war  has  an  element  of  mystery  in  it  which  is  alluring  to  men. 
Are  we  coming  to  indiscriminate  fighting  ?  I  fear  it.  .  .  .  The  horrible 
,  battles  which  are  in  preparation  have  no  pretext  whatever  for  them.  It 
V  is  the  love  of  fighting  for  fighting's  sake.  I  lament  for  the  bridges  and 
tunnels  blown  up.  All  this  human  labour  gone  to  ruin.  You  will  have 
seen  that  a  gentleman  recommended  in  the  Chamber  the  plundering  of 
the  Grand  Duchy  of  Baden.    Oh  that  I  could  be  with  the  Bedouins! 

"Oh,"  cried  I,  as  I  read  this  letter,  "  that  we  could  have  been 
bom  500  years  later  I  that  would  be  even  better  than  the 
Bedouins." 

"  Men  will  not  want  all  that  time  to  become  reasonable," 
said  Frederick  confidently. 


The  period  of  proclamations  and  general  orders  was  now 
come. 

The  old  hum-drum  tune  again  always,  and  always  again  the 
public  carried  away  to  give  it  support  and  enthusiasm  !  There 
was  joy  over  the  victories  guaranteed  in  the  manifestoes,  just 
as  if  they  had  been  gained  already. 

On  July  28  Napoleon  III.  issued  the  following  document 
from  his  headquarters  at  Metz.  This  also  I  entered  in  my 
book,  not,  indeed,  because  I  shared  in  the  admiration  but  from 
contempt  for  the  everlasting  sameness  and  hoUowness  of  its 
phrase-mongering : — 

We  are  defending  the  hononr  and  the  soil  of  onr  country.  We  shall 
conquer.  Nothing  is  too  much  for  the  persevering  exertions  of  the 
soldiers  of  Africa,  the  Crimea,  China,  Italy  and  Mexico.  Once  more  you 
will  show  what  a  French  army  can  do,  which  is  on  fire  with  the  love  of 
country.  Whatever  way  we  take  out  of  our  boundaries,  we  find 
there  the  glorious  footsteps  of  our  forefathers.  We  will  show  our- 
selves worthy  of  them.  On  our  success  depends  the  fate  of  Freedom  and 
Civilisation.  Soldiers!  let  every  one  do  his  duty,  and  the  God  of  Battles 
will  be  with  us. 

Of  course,  "/p  Dieu  des  Armies  "  could  not  be  left  out  That 
the  leaders  of  defeated  armies  have  said  the  same  thing  4 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  393 

hundred  times  over  does  not  prevent  the  others  from  saying 
the  same  words  at  the  beginning  of  every  new  campaign  and 
awakening  the  same  confidence  by  doing  so.  Is  there  anything 
more  short  and  more  weak  than  the  memory  of  the  people  ? 

On  July  31  King  William  quitted  Berlin  and  left  the  follow- 
ing writing : — 

In  going  to-day  to  the  army,  to  fight  along  with  it  for  honour  and  for 
the  preservation  of  our  noblest  possessions,  I  leave  an  amnesty  for  all 
political  offenders.  My  people  know  as  well  as  I  that  the  breach  of 
treaty  and  hostile  proceedings  are  not  on  our  side.  But  as  we  have 
been  provoked,  we  are  determined,  like  our  fathers,  and  in  firm  reliance 
on  God,  to  brave  the  battle  for  the  deliverance  of  our  fatherland. 

Necessity  of  defence — necessity  of  defence — that  is  the  only 
recognised  way  of  killing,  and  so  both  parties  cry  out :  "  1  am 
defending  myself".  Is  not  that  a  contradiction?  Not  alto- 
gether, for  over  both  there  presides  a  third  power,  the  power 
of  the  conquering,  ancient  war-spirit.  It  is  only  against  him 
that  all  should  join  in  a  defensive  league. 

Along  with  the  above  manifestoes,  I  find  in  my  red  volumes 
an  entry,  with  the  singular  title  written  over  it :  "  If  Ollivier  had 
married  Meyerbeer's  daughter  would  the  war  have  broken  out  ?  " 
This  is  how  the  matter  stood.  Amongst  our  Parisian  acquain- 
tance there  was  a  literary  man  named  Alexander  Weill,  and  it 
was  he  who  threw  out  the  above  question,  while  he  told  us  the 
following  story : — 

"  Meyerbeer  was  looking  out  for  a  man  of  talent  for  his  second 
daughter,  and  his  choice  fell  on  my  friend  Emile  Ollivier. 
Ollivier  was  a  widower.  He  had  married  for  his  first  wife  the 
daughter  of  Liszt,  whom  the  renowned  pianist  had  by  the 
Countess  d'Agoult  (Daniel  Stern),  with  whom  he  long  lived  as 
his  wife.  The  marriage  was  very  happy,  and  Ollivier  had  the 
reputation  of  a  virtuous  husband.  He  possessed  no  fortune, 
but  as  a  speaker  and  statesman  he  was  already  famous. 
Meyerbeer  wanted  to  make  his  personal  acquaintance,  and  to 
this  end  I  gave,  in  April,  1864,  a  great  ball,  which  was  attended 


394  ^^^  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS. 

by  most  of  the  celebrities  of  art  and  science,  and  where,  of 
course,  Ollivier,  who  had  been  informed  by  me  of  Meyerbeer*8 
purpose,  played  the  first  part  He  pleased  Meyerbeer.  The 
matter  was  not  easy  to  bring  to  a  head.  Meyerbeer  knew  the 
independent  originality  of  his  second  daughter,  who  would 
never  marry  any  other  husband  than  one  of  her  own  choice. 
It  was  arranged  that  Ollivier  should  pay  a  visit  to  Baden,  and 
there  be  introduced  as  if  by  chance  to  the  young  lady.  When 
Meyerbeer  died  suddenly  a  fortnight  after  this  ball,  it  was 
Ollivier,  if  you  recollect,  who  pronounced  his  ilo^e  and  funeral 
oration  at  the  Northern  Railway  Station.  Now,  I  affirm,  nay 
I  am  certain  of  it,  that  if  Ollivier  had  married  Meyerbeer's 
daughter,  the  war  between  France  and  Germany  would  not 
have  broken  out.  Look  how  plausible  my  proofs  are.  In  the 
first  place,  Meyerbeer,  who  hated  the  empire  to  the  point  of 
contempt,  would  never  have  permitted  his  daughter's  husband 
to  become  a  minister  of  the  emperor.  It  is  well  known  that, 
if  Ollivier  had  threatened  the  Chamber  to  give  in  his  resigna- 
tion sooner  than  declare  war,  the  Chamber  would  never  have 
declared  war.  The  present  war  is  the  work  of  three  back- 
stairs confidants  and  secret  ministers  of  the  empress,  named, 
Jer8me  David,  Paul  de  Cassagnac,  and  the  Due  de  Grammont 
The  empress,  excited  by  the  Pope,  whose  religious  puppet  she 
is,  would  have  this  war,  as  to  the  success  of  which  she  never 
doubted,  in  order  to  ensure  her  son's  succession.  She  said : 
*C*est  ma  guerre  k  moi  et  k  mon  fils,'  and  the  three  above-named 
papal  *  anabaptists  *  were  her  secret  tools  to  force  the  emperor, 
who  did  not  want  any  war,  and  the  Chamber  into  war  by  false 
and  secret  despatches  from  Germany." 

"  And  this  is  what  is  called  diplomacy  I "  I  interrupted  with  a 
shudder. 

"  Listen  further,"  pursued  Alexander  Weill.  **  Ollivier  said  to 
me  on  July  15,  when  I  met  him  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  : 
*  Peace  is  assured,  or  I  resign '.  Whence  came  it  then  that  this 
same  man,  a  few  days  later,  instead  of  resigning,  declared  wai 
himself,  '  afun  cosur  leger^  as  he  said  in  the  Chamber  ?  *' 


LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARlfl.  395 

*  With  a  light  heart !  *  I  cried,  shuddering  again, 
"  There  is  a  secret  in  this  that  I  can  throw  light  upon.  The 
emperor,  for  whom  money  had  never  any  other  value  than  to 
purchase  love  or  friendship  with  it  (he  believes,  like  Jugurtha 
in  Rome,  that  all  in  France,  men  and  women,  have  their  price), 
has  the  custom,  when  he  takes  a  minister  who  is  not  rich,  of 
binding  him  more  closely  to  himself  by  a  present  of  a  million 
francs.  Darn  alone,  who  told  me  this  secret,  declined  this 
present — *Timeo  Danaos  ct  dona  ferentes'.  And  he  alone, 
being  unfettered,  sent  in  his  resignation.  As  long  as  the 
emperor  hesitated,  Ollivier,  being  bound  to  his  master  by  this 
chain  of  gold,  declared  himself  neutral — rather  inclined  to 
peace.  But  as  soon  as  the  emperor  had  been  overborne  by 
his  wife  and  her  three  ultramontane  anabaptists,  Ollivier 
declared  for  war,  and  gave  it  lively  utterance,  with  light  heart, 
'  and  with  full  pockets  '.*** 


^  Britfe  bervorragender  Manner  an  Alexander  Weill— Ziirtck 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

First  days  afihe  war  in  Paris. — Constant  reverses  of  the  French 
arms, — Fall  of  Metz. — Paris  turned  into  a  fortress. — The 
Prussians  expelled  from  Paris. — Surrender  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  and  his  army  at  Sedan. — Proclamation  of  the 
Republic. — Futile  negotiations  for  peace, —  We  determine  to 
quit  Paris, — This  is  prevented  by  my  illness. —  When  1 
recover  the  winter  has  set  in,  and  Paris  has  long  been 
beleaguered. — Fall  of  Strasbourg. — Paris  bombarded. — The 
proclamation  of  the  German  Empire  at  Versailles. — Dreams 
of  release  and  future  happiness  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
arrest  and  execution  of  my  husband  by  the  Communards. 

"  Oh  monsieur !  Oh  madame  !  What  happiness  !  What 
great  news  ! "  With  these  words  Frederick's  valet  rushed  into 
our  room  one  day,  and  the  cook  after  him.  It  was  the  day  of 
Worth. 

"What  is  it?" 

**  A  telegram  has  been  posted  up  at  the  Bourse.  We  have 
conquered  The  King  of  Prussia's  army  is  as  good  as  annihi- 
lated. The  city  is  adorning  itself  with  tricolour  flags.  There 
will  be  an  illumination  to-night.** 

But  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  it  turned  out  that  the 
news  was  false — a  Bourse  trick.  Ollivier  made  a  speech  to  the 
crowd  from  his  balcony.  Well,  so  much  the  better ;  at  least 
one  would  not  be  obliged  to  illuminate.  These  joyful  tidings 
of  "  armies  annihilated  " — i.e.,  of  numberless  lives  torn  asunder, 
and  hearts  broken — ^awoke  again  in  me  too  the  same  wish  as 
Flaubert'i—*'  Oh  duu  I  were  with  the  Bedouins  I " 

(396) 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  397 

On  August  7,  news  of  a  catastrophe.  The  emperor 
hastened  from  St.  Cloud  to  the  theatre  of  war.  The  enemy 
had  penetrated  into  the  country.  The  newspapers  could  not 
give  expression  hot  enough  to  their  rage  at  the  *'  invasion  **. 
The  cry  "  X  Berlin/*  as  it  seemed  to  me,  pointed  to  an  intended 
invasion  ;  but  in  that  there  was  nothing  to  cause  anger.  But 
that  these  eastern  barbarians  should  venture  to  make  an 
incursion  into  beautiful,  God- beloved  France— that  was  sheer 
savagery  and  sin.     That  must  be  stopped,  and  quickly  too. 

The  Minister  of  War  ad  interim  published  a  decree  that  all 
citizens  fit  for  service,  from  the  age  of  thirty  to  forty,  who  did 
not  belong  to  the  National  Guard,  should  be  immediately 
enrolled  in  that  body.  A  Ministry  of  the  Defence  of  the 
Country  was  formed.  The  war  loan  of  500  millions,  which  had 
been  voted,  was  raised  to  1000.  It  is  quite  refreshing  to  see 
how  freely  people  always  offer  up  the  money  and  the  lives  of 
others.  A  trifling  financial  unpleasantness,  to  be  sure,  was 
soon  perceptible  to  the  public.  If  one  wanted  to  change  bank 
notes  one  had  to  pay  the  money-changer  ten  per  cent.  There 
was  not  gold  at  hand  to  meet  all  the  notes  which  the  Bank  of 
France  was  authorised  to  issue. 

And  now,  victory  after  victory  on  the  German  side. 

The  physiognomy  of  the  city  of  Paris  and  its  inhabitants 
altered.  Instead  of  its  proud,  magnificent,  resplendent  mood, 
came  confusion  and  savage  indignation.  The  feeling  spread 
ever  wider  and  wider  that  a  horde  of  Vandals  bad  descended 
on  to  the  land — something  terrible,  unheard  of,  like  some 
cloud  of  locusts,  or  some  such  natural  portent.  That  they 
had  themselves  brought  this  plague  on  themselves  by  their 
declaration  of  war — that  they  had  considered  such  a  declara- 
tion indispensable,  in  order  that  no  Hohenzollern,  even  in  the 
distant  future,  should  even  conceive  the  idea  of  succeeding  to 
the  Spanish  throne — all  that  they  had  forgotten.  Hideous 
tales  were  circulated  about  the  enemy.  *'The  Uhlans  1  the 
Uhlans  I "  These  words  had  a  fantastically-demoniacal  sound, 
as  if  one  bad  said  '*  the  horde  of  savages  ".    Id  the  imagination 


$gS  LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

of  the  people  this  kind  of  troops  assumed  a  demoniacal 
shape.  Wherever  a  bold  stroke  was  executed  by  the  German 
cavalry,  it  was  attributed  to  the  Uhlans — a  kind  of  half-men, 
getting  no  pay,  and  therefore  bound  to  live  on  their  plunder. 
Along  with  the  rumours  of  terror  arose  rumours  also  of  triumph. 
To  tell  lies  about  successes  is  one  of  the  duties  of  Chauvinism. 
Of  course,  because  courage  must  be  kept  up.  The  command, 
to  tell  truth,  like  so  many  other  commands,  loses  its  obligation 
in  war  time.  Frederick  dictated  to  me  the  following  passage  out 
of  the  newspaper  £e  Volontaire  for  my  red  book  :— 

Up  to  the  i6th  of  August,  the  Germans  have  lost  already  144,000  men. 
The  rest  are  almost  starving.  The  last  reserves  are  coming  up  from 
Germany — "  la  landwehr  et  la  landsturm  ".  Old  men  of  sixty,  with 
flint  muskets,  with  an  enormous  tobacco  pouch  on  their  right  side  and 
a  still  larger  schnaps-flask  on  their  left,  a  long  clay  pipe  in  their  mouth ; 
stooping  under  the  weight  of  the  knapsack  (on  the  top  of  which  there 
must  not  be  omitted  the  coffee  mill  and  the  elder  tea  inside),  are  crawling 
along,  coughing  and  blowing  their  noses,  from  the  right  to  the  left  bank  of 
the  Rhine,  cursing  those  who  have  torn  them  from  the  embraces  of  their 
grandchildren,  to  lead  them  on  to  certain  death.  "  As  to  the  news  of 
victory,  brought  from  German  sources,"  it  was  said  in  the  French 
newspapers,  "  they  are  the  usual  Prussian  lies.*' 

On  August  20  Count  Palikao  announced  in  the  Chamber 
that  three  army  corps  which  had  coalesced  against  Bazaine 
had  been  thrown  into  the  quarries  at  Jaumont  (Bravo  1  Bravo !). 
It  is  true  that  no  one  knew  what  quarries  these  were,  or  where 
they  were ;  nor  did  any  one  explain  how  they  could  contain 
three  army  corps;  but  the  joyous  message  went  round  from 

mouth  to  mouth.     "  Have  you  heard  ?    In  the  quarries ^ 

"  Oh  yes  I  Of  Jaumont.'*  No  one  uttered  a  doubt  or  ques- 
tion. It  was  as  if  everybody  had  been  bom  at  Jaumont,  and 
knew  these  army-swallowing  quarries  as  well  as  his  own  pocket. 
About  this  time  the  rumour  also  prevailed  that  the  King  of 
Prussia  had  gone  mad  from  despair  at  the  condition  of  his 
army. 

Nothing  but  monstrous  things  were  heard  of.    The  excite- 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  399 

ment,  the  fever,  of  the  populace  increased  hourly.  The  war 
**  l^-bas "  had  ceased  to  be  regarded  as  an  armed  promenade. 
It  was  felt  that  the  forces  which  had  been  let  loose  were  now 
bringing  something  terrible  on  the  world.  Nothing  was  spoken 
of  but  armies  annihilated,  princes  driven  mad,  diabolical  hordes, 
war  to  the  knife.  I  listened  to  it  thundering  and  growling.  It 
was  the  storm  of  rage  and  despair  that  was  rising.  The  battle 
at  Bazeilles  near  Metz  was  described,  and  it  was  stated 
that  inhuman  cruelties  had  been  committed  there  by  the 
Bavarians. 

"Do  you  believe  that?"  I  asked  Frederick.  "Do  you 
believe  that  of  the  gentle  Bavarians?" 

**  It  is  quite  possible.  Bavarian  or  Turco,  German,  French, 
or  Indian,  the  warrior  who  is  defending  his  own  life,  and  lifting 
up  his  arm  to  kill  another,  has  ceased  for  the  time  to  be 
*  human '.  What  has  been  awakened  in  him  and  stirred  up 
with  all  possible  force  is  nothing  else  than  bestiality." 


Metz  fallen !  The  news  resounded  in  the  city  like  some 
strange  and  overpowering  cry  of  terror.  To  me  the  news  of 
the  taking  of  a  fortress  was  a  message  which  brought  rather  a 
relief ;  for  I  thought,  "  Well,  that  is  decisive  ".  And  it  was  only 
for  this,  that  the  bloody  game  might  be  over,  it  was  for  this, 
only  this  that  I  longed.  But  no,  there  was  nothing  decisive 
in  it — more  fortresses  remained.  Ajfter  a  defeat  all  that  is  to 
be  done  is  to  pick  yourself  up  again,  and  strike  out  again  at 
them  twice  as  hard.  The  chance  of  arms  may  change  at  any 
time.  Ah  yes  1  The  advantage  may  be  now  on  this  side,  now 
on  that.  It  is  only  woe  that  is  certain — death  that  is  certain — 
to  be  on  both. 

Trochu  felt  himself  called  upon  to  arouse  the  spirit  of  the 
populace  by  a  new  proclamation,  and  in  it  appealed  to  an 
old  motto  of  Bretagne,  "  With  God's  help  for  our  fatherland  ". 
That  did  not  sound  new  to  me.  I  had  met  with  something 
like  it  before  in  other  prodamatioDS.     It  did  not  fail  to  have 


400  LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS. 

its  effect.  The  people  were  inspirited.  Now,  the  thing  was  to 
turn  Paris  into  a  fortress. 

Paris  a  fortress  I  I  could  not  take  in  the  idea.  The  city 
which  V.  Hugo  called  **  la  ville-lumtere,''  which  is  the  point 
of  attraction  for  the  whole  world  of  civilisation,  riches,  the 
pursuit  of  art,  and  the  enjoyment  of  life — the  point  from 
which  radiate  splendour,  fashions,  esprit — this  city  is  now  to 
be  **  fortified  ** — /.^.,  become  the  point  at  which  hostile  attacks 
are  to  be  aimed ;  the  target  for  shot ;  to  close  itself  against  all 
intercourse,  and  expose  itself  to  the  danger  of  being  set  in  flames 
by  bombardment,  or  starved  by  famine !  And  that  is  done 
by  these  people,  de  gaieth  de  ccsur,  in  the  spirit  of  self- 
sacrifice,  with  joyous  emulation,  as  if  it  was  a  question  of 
carrying  out  the  most  useful,  the  most  noble  work  1  The  work 
was  proceeded  with  in  feverish  haste.  Ramparts  had  to  be 
erected  on  which  troops  could  be  placed,  and  shot  holes  cut  in 
them ;  also  trenches  dug  outside  the  gates,  drawbridges 
erected,  covering  works  repaired,  canals  bridged  over,  and 
protected  by  breastworks,  powder  magazines  built,  and  a  flotilla 
of  gunboats  placed  on  the  Seine.  What  a  fever  of  activity ! 
What  expenditure  of  exertion  and  industry !  What  gigantic 
expense  in  labour  and  money !  How  exhilarating  and 
ennobling  all  that  would  have  been,  if  it  had  been  expended 
on  works  of  public  utility ;  but  for  the  purpose  of  working 
mischief,  of  annihilation — a  purpose  which  is  not  even  one's 
own,  but  only  a  move  on  the  strategic  chess-board — it  is  incon- 
ceivable I 

In  order  to  be  able  to  stand  a  siege,  which  might  possibly  be 
a  long  one,  the  city  was  provisioned.  Up  to  the  present  time, 
according  to  all  experience,  no  such  thing  as  an  impregnable 
fortification  has  been  known,  capitulation  is  always  only  a 
question  of  time.  And  yet  fortresses  have  always  been  erected 
anew,  and  provisioned  anew  with  necessaries,  in  spite  of  the 
mathematical  impossibility  of  protecting  oneself  against  the 
duration  of  a  blockade. 

The  measures  taken  were  on  a  great  scale.      Mills  were 


LAT  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS.  4OI 

erected,  tnd  cattle  parks  laid  out,  and  yet  at  last  the  moment 
must  come  when  the  com  will  give  out  and  the  meat  be  con- 
sumed. But  people  do  not  carry  their  thoughts  so  far — by  that 
time  the  enemy  will  be  driven  back  over  the  frontier,  or 
annihilated  in  the  country.  Now  the  whole  people  are  joining 
the  army  of  the  fatherland.  Every  one  offers  himself  for  the 
service,  or  is  pressed  into  it ;  and  all  the  firemen  in  the  country 
were  called  in  to  join  the  garrison  of  Paris.  There  might  be  fires 
in  the  provinces,  but  what  of  that  ?  Such  little  accidents  disap- 
pear when  a  national  "disaster*'  is  in  question.  On  Aug.  17, 
60,000  firemen  had  already  been  enrolled  in  the  capital.  The 
sailors  too  were  called  in,  and  new  troops  of  soldiers  were 
formed  every  day  under  various  names — volontaires^  kclaireurs^ 
franc-tirmrs* 


Events  followed  each  other  in  ever-hastening  movement. 
But  now  only  military  events.  Everything  else  was  suspended. 
Nothing  else  was  any  more  thought  of  around  us  except  "  mort 
aux  Prussiens ".  A  storm  of  savage  hatred  collected :  it  had 
not  yet  broken  out,  but  one  heard  it  rumble.  In  all  official 
proclamations,  in  all  the  street  cries,  in  all  public  transactions, 
the  conclusion  was  always  "  mort  aux  Prussiens  ".  All  these 
troops,  regular  and  irregular,  these  munitions,  these  work- 
people pressing  to  the  fortifications  with  their  tools  and 
barrows,  these  transports  for  weapons,  everything  that  one 
sees  and  hears  means,  in  its  every  form  and  tone,  in  all  its 
lightning  and  bluster,  in  all  its  flame  and  rage,  "  mort  aux 
Prussiens'*,  Or  in  other  words,  and  then  indeed  it  sounds  like 
a  cry  of  love  and  warms  even  the  softest  hearts,  it  means  "/^wr 
la patriey*  but  in  essence  it  is  the  same. 

I  asked  Frederick :  "  You  are  of  Prussian  extraction,  how 
does  all  this  unfriendly  feeling,  which  is  now  finding  loud 
expression,  affect  you  ?  " 

"You  said  the  same  to  me  before,  in  1866,  and  I  answered 
you  then  as  I  do  to-day,  that  I  suffer  from  these  expressions  of 

26 


40a  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

hatred  not  as  the  subject  of  any  country,  but  as  a  man.  If  1 
judge  of  the  opinions  of  the  people  here  from  a  national  point 
of  view  I  cannot  but  think  them  right,  they  call  it  la  haine 
sacrke  de  rmnemi,  and  that  motive  forms  an  important  element 
in  warlike  patriotism.  They  are  now  occupied  with  this  one 
thought,  to  liberate  their  country  from  a  hostile  invasion.  That 
it  is  themselves  who  provoked  this  invasion  by  declaring  war, 
they  have  forgotten.  Indeed  it  was  not  they  who  did  it,  but 
their  Government,  which  they  believed  on  its  word ;  and  now 
they  lose  no  time  over  reproaches  or  reflections,  as  to  who 
called  down  this  misfortune  on  them :  it  has  come,  and  all  their 
force,  all  their  enthusiasm  must  be  spent  on  turning  it  aside 
again,  or  else  uniting  with  unthinking  self-sacrifice  in  a  common 
ruin.  Trust  me,  there  is  much  noble  capacity  for  love  in  us 
children  of  men,  the  pity  only  is  that  we  lavish  it  on  the  old- 
world  tracks  of  hatred.  .  .  .  And  on  the  other  side,  the  hated 
ones,  the  invaders,  *  the  red-haired  eastern  barbarians,'  what  are 
they  doing  ?  They  were  the  challenged ;  and  they  are  pressing 
forward  into  the  country  of  those  who  threatened  to  overrun 
theirs —  *  A  Berlin^  h  Berlin  \  Do  not  you  recollect  how  this 
cry  kept  pealing  through  the  whole  city,  even  down  from  the 
roofs  of  omnibusses  ?  " 

"And  now  these  are  marching  *Naeh  Paris*,  Why  do  the 
shouters  of  *  A  Berlin  *  attribute  that  as  a  crime  to  them  ?  " 

"  Because  there  cannot  be  any  logic  or  justice  in  that  national 
sentiment  whose  foundation  is  the  assumption  that  we- are 
ourselves,  that  is  the  first,  and  the  others  are  barbarians.  And 
this  forward  march  of  the  Germans  from  victory  to  victory 
strikes  me  with  admiration.  I  have  been  a  soldier  also,  and  I 
know  with  what  a  magical  power  victory  fastens  on  the  mind, 
what  pride,  what  joy  are  contained  in  it.  It  is  in  any  case  the 
aim,  tfie  reward  for  all  the  sacrifices  made,  for  the  renunciation 
of  rest  and  happiness,  for  the  risk  of  life." 

"  But  then  why  do  not  the  conquered  adversaries,  since  they 
too  are  soldiers,  and  know  what  fame  accompanies  victory,  why 
do  they  not  admire  their  conquerors  ?    Why  is  it  nerer  said  in 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  4O3 

an  account  of  a  battle  by  the  losing  party :  *  The  enemy  has 
obtained  a  glorious  victory '  ?  '* 

"  I  repeat,  because  the  war  spirit  and  patriotic  egotism  are 
the  denial  of  all  justice.^ 

So  it  came  about — I  can  see  it  from  all  our  conversation! 
entered  in  the  red  books  in  those  days— that  we  did  not  and 
could  not  think  of  anything  at  that  time  except  the  result  of 
the  present  national  duel. 

Our  happiness,  our  poor  happiness,  we  had  it,  but  we  dared 
not  enjoy  it.  Yes,  we  possessed  everything  that  might  have 
procured  for  us  a  heaven  of  delight  on  earth — boundless  love, 
riches,  rank,  the  charming,  growing  boy  Rudolf,  our  heart's 
idol  Sylvia,  independence,  ardent  interest  in  the  world  of  mind  ; 
but  before  all  this  a  curtain  had  fallen.  How  dared  we,  how 
could  we  taste  of  our  joys  while  around  us  every  one  was 
suffering  and  trembling,  shrieking  and  raving  ?  It  was  as  if  one 
should  set  oneself  to  enjoy  oneself  heartily  on  board  a  storm- 
tossed  vessel. 

"A  theatrical  fellow,  this  Trochu,"  Frederick  told  me- 
lt was  on  August  25.  "  Such  a  coup  de  theatre  has  been  played 
off  to-day !    You  will  never  guess  it." 

''The  women  called  out  for  miHtary  service?"  I  guessed. 

*'  Well,  it  does  concern  the  women ;  but  they  are  not  called 
out.    On  the  contrary.** 

"Then  are  the  sutlers  discharged?  or  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy?" 

"  You  have  not  guessed  it  yet,  either.  There  is  something 
of  dismissal  in  it  to  be  sure,  and  as  to  sutlers,  too,  in  the 
sense  that  these  ladies  minister  the  cup  of  pleasure,  and  in  a 
sense  the  ladies  dismissed  are  merciful  too;  but  in  short,  without 
more  riddles,  the  dttnitnonde  is  exiled." 

"And  the  Minister  of  War  has  taken  that  step?  What 
connection ?  " 

"  I  cannot  see  any  either.  But  the  people  are  in  ecstasies 
over  the  regulation.  In  fact  they  are  always  glad  when  air^ 
thing  happens.     From  every  new  order  they  expect  a  change^ 


404  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS, 

like  many  sick  folks  who  greet  every  medicine  which  is  given 
them  as  possibly  a  panacea.  When  vice  is  driven  out  of  the 
city — so  think  the  pious — who  knows  whether  Heaven,  now 
evidently  angry,  will  not  again  extend  its  protection  over  the 
inhabitants?  And  now,  when  people  are  preparing  for  the 
serious  time  of  the  siege,  with  all  its  privations,  what  have  these 
silly,  wasteful  women  of  pleasure  to  do  here  ?  And  so  most 
people,  excluding  those  concerned,  think  the  regulation  a 
proper,  moral,  and  besides,  a  patriotic  one,  since  a  great 
number  of  these  women  are  foreigners,  English,  Southerners, 
nay  even  Germans,  some  of  whom  may  perhaps  be  spies.  No, 
no ;  there  is  only  room  in  the  city  now  for  her  own  children, 
and  only  for  her  virtuous  children  ! " 

On  August  28  occurred  something  still  worse.  Another 
banishment.     All  Germans  had  to  quit  Paris  within  three  days. 

The  poison,  the  deadly,  long-abiding  poison,  which  lay  in 
this  regulation  those  who  wrote  the  decree  possibly  had  not 
in  any  way  suspected.  The  hatred  of  Germans  was  awakened 
by  it  For  how  long  a  time  even  after  the  war,  this  misfortune 
was  to  go  on  bearing  its  terrible  fruit,  I  know  at  this  day.  From 
that  time  forward,  France  and  Germany,  those  two  great, 
flourishing,  magnificent  countries,  were  no  longer  two  nations 
whose  armies  had  fought  out  a  chivalrous  conflict ;  hatred  for 
the  whole  of  the  opposed  nation  pervaded  the  entire  people. 
Enmity  was  erected  into  an  institution  which  was  not  restricted 
to  the  duration  of  the  war,  but  ensured  its  continuance  as 
"  hereditary  enmity,"  even  to  future  generations. 

Exiled.  Obliged  to  leave  the  city  within  three  days.  I  had 
occasion  to  see  how  hardly,  how  inhumanly  hardly,  this  com- 
mand pressed  on  many  worthy,  harmless  families.  Among  the 
business  people  who  were  supplying  us  with  goods  for  the 
decoration  of  our  house,  several  were  Germans — one  a  carriage- 
builder,  one  an  upholsterer,  one  an  art-furniture  manufacturer 
— settled  from  ten  to  twenty  years  in  Paris,  where  they  had 
got  their  domestic  hearth,  where  they  had  allied  themselves  in 
marriage  with  Parisians,  where  they  had  the  whole  of  theii 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  4O5 

business  connection  ;  and  now  they  had  to  go  out,  out  in  three 
days — shut  up  their  house,  leave  all  that  was  dear  and  familiar 
to  them,  lose  their  fortune,  their  customers,  their  inheritance. 
The  poor  creatures  came  running  to  us  in  consternation,  and 
told  us  of  the  misery  that  had  fallen  on  them.  Even  the  work 
which  they  were  on  the  point  of  delivering  to  us  had  to  be 
put  aside,  and  the  workshops  closed.  Wringing  their  hands  and 
with  tears  in  their  eyes,  they  complained  of  their  suflferings  to 
us.  "I  have  an  old  father  an  invalid,"  said  one,  "  and  my  wife 
is  looking  for  her  confinement  any  day ;  and  now  we  must  go 
in  three  days  1 "  **  I  have  not  a  sou  in  the  house,"  another 
complained ;  "  all  my  customers  who  owe  me  money  will  be  in 
no  hurry  to  meet  their  obligations.  A  week  hence  I  should 
have  completed  a  large  order  which  would  have  made  me 
comfortably  off,  and  now  I  must  leave  all  in  confusion  1 " 

And  why,  why  was  all  this  misery  brought  on  these  poor 
people  ?  Because  they  belonged  to  a  nation  whose  army  did 
its  duty  successfully,  or  because  (to  go  further  back  in  the  chain 
of  causes)  a  HohenzoUern  might  possibly  have  allowed  it  to 
enter  into  his  mind  to  assume  the  Spanish  throne  if  offered  to 
him?  No;  this  "because,"  too,  has  not  arrived  at  the 
ultimate  reason.  All  this  is  only  the  pretext — ^not  the  cause  of 
that  war. 


Sedan  !  *'  The  Emperor  Napoleon  has  given  up  his  sword.** 
The  news  overwhelmed  us.  Now  there  had  really  occurred 
a  great,  an  historical  catastrophe.  The  French  army  beaten,  its 
leader  checkmated.  Then  the  game  was  over,  won  triumphantly 
by  Germany.  **  Over  I  over  1  '*  I  shouted.  '*  If  there  were 
people  who  have  the  right  to  call  themselves  citizens  of  the 
world  they  might  illuminate  their  windows  to-day.  If  we  had 
temples  of  Humanity  yet,  Te  Deums  would  have  to  be  sung 
in  them  on  this  occasion — the  butchery  is  over  I " 

"  Do  not  rejoice  too  soon,  my  darling,"  said  Frederick  in  a 
warning  tone.     ^  This  war  has  now  for  some  time  lost  the 


406  L4T  DOWN  YOUR  AKlft. 

character  of  a  game  fought  out  on  the  chess-board  of  the  battle> 
field.  The  whole  nation  is  joining  in  the  fight.  For  ^m  army 
annihilated  ten  others  will  start  out  of  the  earth." 

"  But  would  that  be  just  ?  It  is  only  German  soldiers  who 
have  forced  themselves  into  the  country — not  the  German 
people — and  so  they  ought  only  to  oppose  them  with  French 
soldiers." 

*•  How  you  keep  on  appealing  to  justice  and  reason,  you 
unreasonable  creature,  in  dealing  with  a  madman  I  France  is 
mad  with  pain  and  rage  ;  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  loss 
of  country,  her  pain  is  pious,  her  rage  justifiable.  Whatever 
desperate  thing  she  may  do  now  is  inspired,  not  by  personal 
self-seeking,  but  by  the  highest  spirit  of  sacrifice.  If  only  the 
time  were  come  when  the  powers  of  virtue,  which  is  the 
essential  thing  that  binds  men  together,  were  diverted  from  the 
work  of  destruction  and  devoted  to  the  work  of  felicity  1  But 
this  unholy  war  has  again  thrown  us  back  a  long  distance  firom 
that  goal.** 

"  No,  no !  I  hope  the  war  is  over  now." 

"  If  it  were  so  (and  I  despair  of  it)  there  would  be  sown 
the  seeds  of  future  wars,  and  it  could  only  be  the  seed  of 
hatred  which  is  contained  in  this  expulsion  of  the  Germans. 
Such  a  thing  as  that  has  an  effect  far  beyond  the  present 
generation." 

September  4.  Another  act  of  violence,  an  outbreak  of  passion, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  a  remedy  tried  for  the  salvation  of  the 
country — the  emperor  is  deposed.  France  proclaims  herself 
a  republic.  Whatever  Napoleon  III.  and  his  army  may  have 
done  matters  not.  Mistakes,  treachery,  cowardice,  all  these 
faults  have  been  committed  by  individuals,  the  emperor  and 
his  generals ;  but  France  has  not  committed  them,  she  is  not 
answerable  for  it.  When  the  throne  was  overturned,  the  leaves 
in  France's  history,  on  which  Metz  and  Sedan  were  inscribed, 
were  simply  torn  out  of  the  book.  From  this  time  the  country 
itself  would  carry  on  the  war,  if,  at  least,  Germany  dared  to 
continue  this  infiaunous  invasion. 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS.  407 

••But  how  if  Napoleon  had  conquered?**  I  asked,  when 
Frederick  communicated  this  to  me. 

"Oh,  then,  France  would  have  taken  his  victory  and  his 
glory  as  the  country's  victory  and  glory." 

"Is  that  just?" 

"Cannot  you  get  out  of  the  habit  of  putting  that 
question  ?  " 

I  had  soon  to  see  my  hopes,  that  the  catastrophe  of  Sedan 
would  put  an  end  to  the  campaign,  vanish.  All  around  us 
seemed  as  warlike  as  ever.  The  air  was  laden  with  savage 
rage  and  hot  lust  of  vengeance.  Rage  against  the  enemy,  and 
almost  as  much  against  the  fallen  dynasty.  The  scandalous 
talk,  the  pamphlets  which  now  poured  down  against  the 
emperor,  the  empress,  and  the  unfortunate  generals ;  the 
contempt,  the  slanders,  the  insults,  the  jests — it  was  disgusting. 
In  this  way  the  uncultured  masses  thought  they  could  lay  the 
whole  burden  of  the  defeats  of  the  country  on  the  shoulders  of 
one  or  two  persons,  and,  now  that  these  persons  were  down, 
pelted  them  with  dung  and  stones.  And  this  was  the 
beginning  of  the  time  when  the  country  was  to  show  that  she 
was  invincible ! 

The  preparations  for  intrenching  Paris  were  carried  on 
zealously.  The  buildings  in  the  fighting  area  of  the  chief 
enceinte  were  abandoned  or  taken  down  entirely.  The  suburbs 
became  deserts.  Troops  of  men  kept  coming  from  outside 
into  the  city  with  all  their  belongings.  Oh,  those  sorrowful 
trains  of  carts  and  pack  horses,  and  laden  men,  who  were 
trailing  the  ruins  of  their  desolated  hearths  through  the 
streets!  I  had  already  seen  the  same  thing  once  in  Bohemia, 
when  the  poor  country  folk  were  flying  from  the  enemy ;  and 
now  I  had  to  look  on  the  same  picture  of  wretchedness  in  the 
joyous,  brilliant  capital  of  the  world.  There  were  the  same 
frightened,  sorrowful  visages,  the  same  weariness  and  haste, 
the  same  woe. 

At  last,  God  be  praised,  once  more  a  good  piece  of  news  ! 
On  the  proposal  of  a  mediation  on  the  part  of  England,  a 


408  LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS. 

meeting  was  arranged  at  Ferribres  between  Jules  Favre  and 
Bismarck.  Now  surely  they  would  succeed  in  coming  to  an 
agreement — in  making  peace ! 

On  the  contrary,  it  was  not  till  now  that  the  extent  of  the  gulf 
was  seen.  For  some  little  time  before  this  there  had  been 
some  talk  in  the  German  papers  of  the  annexation  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine.  A  desire  was  shown  to  incorporate  once  more  the 
land  which  had  formerly  been  German.  The  historical  argu- 
ment for  the  claim  on  these  provinces  appearing  only  partially 
sustainable,  the  strategic  argument  was  brought  forward  to 
support  it — "indispensable  as  a  fortress  in  future  wars  which  may 
be  expected  *\  And  it  is  well  known,  of  course,  that  the  strategic 
grounds  are  the  weightiest,  the  most  impregnable ;  and  that  in 
comparison  with  them  a  moral  ground  can  only  reckon  as 
secondary.  On  the  other  hand,  the  war  game  had  been  lost 
by  France ;  was  it  not  fair  that  the  prize  should  fall  to  the 
winners  ?  In  case  they  had  won,  would  not  the  French  have 
seized  the  Rhine  provinces  ?  If  the  result  of  a  war  is  not  to 
have  for  its  consequence  an  extension  of  territory  for  one  side 
or  the  other,  what  good  would  it  be  to  make  war  at  all  ? 

Meantime  the  victorious  army  made  no  halt  in  its  onward 
march.  The  Germans  were  already  before  the  gates  of  Paris. 
The  cession  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  was  officially  demanded  ; 
to  which  came  the  well-known  reply :  "  Not  an  inch  of  out 
territory,  not  a  stone  of  our  fortresses  '* — ("  Pas  un  pouce — pas 
unepierre"). 

Yes,  yes — thousands  of  lives,  but  not  an  inch  of  ground. 
That  is  the  rooted  idea  of  the  patriotic  spirit  "  They  wish  to 
humble  us,"  cried  the  French  patriots.  "  No  I  sooner  shall 
exasperated  Paris  bury  itself  under  its  own  ruins  I " 

Away  I  away  I  was  now  our  resolution.  Why  should  wo 
stay  in  a  beleaguered  foreign  city  without  any  necessity ;  why 
live  among  people  full  of  no  other  thoughts  than  those  of  hate 
and  vengeance,  who  looked  at  us  with  sidelong  glances  and 
often  with  clenched  fists,  when  they  heard  us  talking  German  } 
It  19  true,  we  could  no  longer  leave  Paris,  or  leave  France, 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  409 

without  difficulty.  One  had  in  all  directions  to  pass  over  war 
districts,  the  railway  traffic  was  frequently  suspended  for 
private  travellers.  To  leave  our  new  building  in  the  lurch  was 
unpleasant,  but  this  was  of  no  consequence,  for  our  stay  was 
impossible.  In  fact  we  had  already  stayed  far  too  long. 
The  events  which  I  had  experienced  recently  had  shaken  me  so 
much  that  my  nerves  had  suffered  grievously  from  it  I  was 
seized  often  with  shivering,  and  once  or  twice  also  with  crying 
fits. 

Our  boxes  were  all  ready  packed,  and  everything  prepared 
for  departure,  when  I  had  another  attack,  and  this  time  so 
violent  that  I  had  to  be  carried  to  bed.  The  physician  who 
was  sent  for  said  that  either  a  nervous  fever  or  even  an  inflam- 
mation of  the  brain  was  commencing,  and  for  the  present  it  was 
not  to  be  thought  of  to  expose  me  to  the  fatigues  of  travelling. 

I  lay  in  bed  for  long,  long  weeks.  Only  a  very  dreamy 
recollection  of  that  whole  time  remains  with  me.  And  strangely 
enough,  a  pleasant  recollection.  I  was,  it  is  true,  very  ill,  and 
everything  in  the  place  where  I  resided  was  unceasingly  mourn- 
ful and  terrible ;  and  yet  when  I  look  back  on  it  it  was  a 
singularly  joyful  time.  Yes,  joy,  perfectly  intense  joy,  such  as 
children  are  in  the  habit  of  feeling.  The  cerebral  affection 
which  I  was  suffering,  and  which  brought  with  it  an  almost 
continuous  absence,  or  at  least  only  half-presence  of  conscious- 
ness, caused  all  thoughts  and  judgments,  all  reflections  and 
deliberations,  to  vanish  out  of  my  head,  and  there  remained 
only  a  vague  enjoyment  of  existence,  just  like  that  which 
children  experience,  as  I  said  just  now,  and  especially  those 
children  who  are  tenderly  watched  over.  There  was  no  want 
of  tender  watching  for  me.  My  husband,  thoughtful  and 
loving  and  untiring,  was  with  me  day  and  night.  He  brought 
the  children  also  often  to  my  bedside.  How  much  my  Rudolf 
had  to  tell  me  I  For  the  most  part  I  did  not  understand  it, 
but  his  beloved  voice  sounded  to  me  like  music,  and  the 
babbling  of  our  little  Sylvia,  our  heart's  idol,  how  sweetly  that 
began  to  charm  me  1    Then  there  were  a  hundred  little  jokci 


41*  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

and  intelligences  between  Frederick  and  me  about  the  tricks  of 
our  little  daughter.  What  these  jokes  were  about  I  have  quite 
forgotten,  but  I  know  that  I  laughed  and  enjoyed  myself  quite 
unrestrainedly.  Each  one  of  the  customary  jests  seemed  to 
me  the  height  of  wit,  and  the  oftener  repeated  the  more  witty 
and  more  precious ;  and  with  what  delight  did  I  not  swallow 
the  draughts  given  me — for  every  day  at  a  given  hour  I  took  a 
glass  of  lemonade.  Such  nectar  I  have  never  tasted  during 
my  whole  life  of  health ;  and  how  entirely  refreshing  was  a 
medicine  with  opium  in  it,  whose  softly  soothing  action, 
putting  me  into  a  conscious  slumber,  sent  a  thrill  of  happy 
calm  through  my  soul.  I  knew  all  the  while  that  my  beloved 
husband  was  by  my  side,  protecting  me  and  watching  over  me 
as  his  heart's  dearest  treasure.  Of  the  war,  which  was  raging  at 
my  door,  I  had  now  hardly  any  cognisance ;  and  if,  for  all  that, 
some  remembrance  of  it  flashed  on  me  sometimes,  I  looked  on 
it  as  something  situated  as  far  away  and  as  completely  without 
any  concern  for  me,  as  if  it  was  being  played  out  in  China  or 
on  another  planet.  My  world  was  here,  in  this  sick-room,  or 
rather  in  this  chamber  of  recovery ;  for  I  felt  myself  getting 
better,  and  all  tended  to  happiness. 


To  happiness  ?  No.  With  recovery,  understanding  came 
back  too,  and  the  perception  of  the  horrors  that  surrounded 
us.  We  were  in  a  beleaguered,  famishing,  freezing,  miserable 
city.    The  war  was  still  raging  on. 

The  winter  had  come  in  the  meantime — icy  cold.  I  now, 
for  the  first  time,  learned  all  that  had  taken  place  during  my 
long  unconsciousness.  The  capital  of  **  the  brotherland," 
Strasbourg  —  the  "  lovely,"  the  *'  true  German,"  the  city 
"German  to  its  core,"  had  been  bombarded,  its  library 
destroyed.  One  hundred  and  ninety-three  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  twenty-two  shots  had  been  poured  into  the  town 
'—four  or  five  a  minute. 

Strasbourg  was  taken. 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  4II 

The  coantry  fell  into  wild  despair— such  a  despair  as  issues 
in  raving  madness.  People  began  to  hunt  in  Nostradamus  to 
find  prophecies  for  the  present  events,  and  new  seers  began  to 
put  out  fresh  predictions.  Still  worse,  possessed  folks  came 
forward.  It  was  like  falling  back  into  a  ghost-night  of  the  middle 
ages,  lighted  by  the  fire  of  helL  "  Oh  that  I  could  be  among 
the  Bedouins  ! "  cried  Gustave  Flaubert.  "  Oh  that  I  could  be 
back  in  the  half-conscious  dreamland  of  my  illness,"  cried  I, 
weeping.  I  was  well  again  now,  and  had  to  hear  and  compre- 
hend all  the  terrible  things  that  were  going  on  around  us. 
Then  began  again  the  entries  in  the  red  books,  and  I  have  lit 
on  the  following  notes  :— 

Dectmber  i.  Trocha  has  eitabllslied  himself  on  the  heights  of 
Champigny. 

December  s.     Obstinate  fight  around  Brie  and  Champigny. 

December  5.  The  cold  is  becoming  constantly  more  powerful.  Oh  \ 
the  trembling,  bleeding,  wretched  wights,  who  are  lying  out  there  in  the 
snow,  and  dying.  Even  here  in  the  city,  there  is  terrible  suffering  from 
cold.  Business  has  fallen  to  nothing.  There  is  no  firing  to  be  had. 
What  would  not  many  an  one  give  if  there  were  only  two  little  pieces  of 
wood  to  be  had — even  the  certainty  of  the  throne  of  Spain  1 

December  21.    Sortie  out  of  Paris. 

December  25.  A  small  detachment  of  Prussian  cavalry  was  sainted 
with  musket  shot  (that  is  a  patriotic  duty)  from  the  houses  of  the  villages 
of  Troo  and  Soug6.  General  Kraatz  commanded  the  punishment  of  the 
village!  (that  is  a  commander's  duty)  and  had  them  burnt.  "  Set  them 
on  fire,"  was  the  word  of  command,  and  the  men,  probably  gentle, 
good-natured  fellows,  obeyed  (that  is  the  soldier's  duty),  and  set  fire 
to  them.  The  flames  burst  up  to  heaven,  and  the  poor  homesteads 
fell  crashing,  on  man,  wife,  and  child — on  flying,  weeping,  roaring, 
burning  men  and  beasts. 

What  a  joyous,  happy,  holy  Christmas  night  t 


Is  Paris  to  be  starved  out,  or  bombarded  as  well  ? 

Against  the  last  supposition  the  civilised  conscience  revolts. 
To  bombard  this  ville-lumt^rey  this  point  of  attraction  of 
all  nations,  this  brilliant  home  of  the  arts — bombard  it  with 


4IS  LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS. 

its  irreplaceable  riches  and  treasures,  like  the  first  fort  that 
comes  to  hand  1  It  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  The  whole  neutral 
press  (as  I  found  out  afterwards)  protested  against  it.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  press  of  the  war  party  in  Berlin  was  favour- 
able to  it :  that  would  be  the  only  way  to  bring  the  war  to  a 
close — and  to  conquer  the  city  on  the  Seine,  what  glory ! 
Besides,  it  was  just  these  protests  which  determined  certain 
circles  at  Versailles  to  seize  this  strategic  weapon ;  and,  after  all, 
a  bombardment  is  nothing.  And  so  it  came  about  that  on 
December  28  I  was  writing  in  shaking  characters :  **  Here  it  is 
— another  heavy  stroke — a  pause — and  again '* 

I  wrote  no  further,  but  I  well  remember  the  feelings  of  that 
day.  In  those  words  :  "  Here  it  is,"  there  lay,  along  with  the 
terror,  a  kind  of  freedom,  a  relief,  a  cessation  of  the  nervous 
expectation  that  had  by  that  time  become  well  nigh  insufferable. 
What  one  had  been  for  so  long  partly  expecting  and  fearing, 
partly  thinking  hardly  humanly  possible,  is  now  come.  We 
were  sitting  at  dijeHner  h  la  fourchette^  i.e.,  we  were  taking 
bread  and  coffee — food  was  getting  scarce  already — Frederick, 
Rudolf,  the  tutor  and  I — when  the  first  stroke  resounded.  All 
of  us  raised  our  heads  and  exchanged  glances.  Is  that  it  ? 
But  no.  It  may  have  been  a  house  door  slamming,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  Now  all  was  quiet.  We  resumed  the  talk 
that  had  been  interrupted,  without  saying  anything  about  the 
thought  which  that  sound  had  caused.  Then,  after  two  or 
three  minutes  it  came  again.  Frederick  started  up.  "That 
is  the  bombardment,"  he  said,  and  hurried  to  the  window. 
I  followed  him.  A  hubbub  came  in  from  the  street.  Groups 
had  formed ;  the  people  were  standing  and  listening,  or  were 
exchanging  excited  words. 

Now  our  valet  de  chambre  came  rushing  into  the  room,  and 
at  the  same  time  a  fresh  salvo  resounded. 

"  Oh  monsieur  et  madame — c'est  le  bombardment." 

And  now  all  the  other  men  and  maids,  down  to  the  kitchen- 
maid,  came  pushing  into  the  room.  In  such  catastrophies — in 
the  exigencies  of  war,  fire,  or  water,  all  distinctions  of  society 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  4I3 

fall  away,  and  those  threatened  all  cluster  together.  All  feel 
equal  before  danger — much  more  than  before  the  law — much 
more  than  before  Death,  which  in  its  burial  ceremonies  knows 
so  much  of  distinction  of  rank.  "  Cest  le  bombardment,  c'est  le 
bombardment."  Every  one  who  came  into  the  room  uttered 
the  same  cry. 

It  was  horrible,  and  yet  I  recollect  quite  well  what  I  felt — a 
sort  of  admiring  shudder,  a  kind  of  satisfaction  at  such  a 
mighty  experience — to  be  present  at  a  situation  so  freighted 
with  destiny  and  not  to  fear  the  danger  to  my  own  life  in  it. 
My  pulses  beat,  and  I  felt — what  shall  I  call  it  ? — the  pride 
of  courage. 

The  thing  was  on  the  whole  less  terrible  than  it  had  seemed 
at  the  first  instant.  No  flaming  buildings,  no  crowds  shrieking 
with  terror,  no  bombshells  whizzing  continually  through  the 
air ;  but  only  always  this  heavy,  far-off  thunder,  with  long  and 
still  longer  intervals  between.  One  came  after  a  time  to  get 
almost  accustomed  to  it.  The  Parisians  chose  as  objects  for 
a  walk  those  points  where  the  cannon  music  was  best  heard. 
Here  and  there  a  bomb  would  fall  in  the  street  and  burst ;  but 
how  rarely  did  it  occur  to  any  given  person  to  happen  to  be 
near  ?  It  is  true  that  many  shells  did  fall  which  carried  death, 
but  in  the  city  of  a  million  men  these  cases  were  heard  of  in 
the  same  scattered  way  in  which  at  other  times  one  is  accustomed 
to  see  in  one's  newspaper  various  cases  of  accident,  without  its 
coming  specially  near  to  oneselt  "A  bricklayer  fell  from  a 
scaffold  four  storeys  high,"  or  "A  genteelly  dressed  female 
threw  herself  over  the  balustrades  of  the  bridge  into  the 
river,"  and  so  forth.  The  real  grief,  the  real  terror  of  the 
populace,  was  not  for  the  bombardment,  but  hunger,  cold,  and 
starvation.  But  one  such  account  of  the  death-dealing  shot 
gave  me  a  deep  shock.  It  came  in  the  form  of  a  black- 
bordered  mourning-card  sent  to  the  house :  — 

Monsieur  and  Madame  R inform  yoa  of  the  death  of  their  two 

children,  Frangois  aged  eight,  and  Am61ie  aged  four,  who  were  struck  by 
A  bomb  coming  through  the  window.    Your  silent  sympathy  is  requested. 


414  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS. 

Silent  sympathy  f  I  gave  a  loud  shriek  as  I  read  the  paper. 
A  thought — a  picture  flashing  before  my  inner  eye  with  lightning 
clearness,  showed  me  the  whole  of  the  woe  which  lay  in  this 
simple  mourning-notice.  I  saw  our  two  children,  Rudolf  and 
Sylvia — no  !  I  could  not  pursue  the  thought ! 

The  tidings  which  one  got  were  scanty.  All  communication 
by  post  was,  of  course,  cut  off.  It  was  by  carrier  pigeons  and 
balloons  only  that  we  had  intercourse  with  the  world  outside. 
The  rumours  that  cropped  up  everywhere  were  of  the  most 
contradictory  nature.  Victorious  sallies  were  announced,  or 
the  information  was  spread  that  the  enemy  was  on  the  point 
of  storming  Paris,  with  a  view  of  setting  it  on  fire  in  all  corners, 
and  levelling  it  to  the  ground,  or  it  was  asseverated  that  sooner 
than  allow  one  German  to  get  within  the  walls,  the  comman- 
dants of  the  forts  would  blow  up  themselves  and  the  whole  of 
Paris  into  the  air.  It  was  related  that  the  whole  population  of 
the  country,  especially  of  the  south  (h  midi  se  l}ve\  were 
falling  on  the  besiegers'  rear,  in  order  to  cut  off  their  retreat, 
and  annihilate  them  to  the  last  man. 

Along  with  the  false  news,  some  true  intelligence  also  came 
to  us — some  whose  truth  was  proved  afterwards.  Such  as 
about  a  panic  that  broke  out  on  the  road  of  Grand  Luce  near 
Mans,  in  which  horrible  deeds  took  place — soldiers  getting 
beyond  control,  throwing  the  wounded  out  of  the  railway 
carriages  that  were  all  standing  ready,  and  taking  their  places 
themselves. 

It  became  more  difficult  every  day  to  get  food.  The  supply 
of  meat  was  exhausted;  there  had  for  a  long  time  now 
been  no  longer  any  beeves  or  sheep  in  the  cattle  parks  that 
had  been  formed ;  all  the  horses  also  were  soon  eaten  up,  and 
then  the  period  began  when  the  dogs  and  cats,  the  rats  and 
mice,  and  finally  the  beasts  in  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  also,  even 
the  poor  elephant,  who  was  such  a  favourite,  had  to  serve  as 
food.  Bread  could  now  be  hardly  procured.  The  people  had 
to  stand  in  rows  for  hours  after  hours  in  front  of  the  bakers' 
shops  in  order  to  get  their  little  ration,  and  still  most  of  them 


I 


LAY  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS.  415 

had  to  go  empty  away.  Exhaustion  and  sickness  made  Death's 
harvest  a  rich  one.  Whilst  ordinarily  11 00  died  in  a  week, 
the  death-list  of  Paris  in  these  times  rose  to  between  4000  and 
5000  weekly.  That  is,  there  were  every  day  between  400  and 
500  unnatural  deaths — that  is  to  say,  murders.  For  if  the 
murderer  is  not  an  individual  man,  but  an  impersonal  thing, 
wz.,  war^  it  is  not  any  the  less  murder.  Whose  is  the  responsi- 
bility? Does  it  not  lie  on  those  parliamentary  swaggerers, 
who  in  their  provocative  speeches  declared  with  proud  self- 
assumption — as  that  Girardin  did  in  the  sitting  of  July  15 — 
that  they  **  took  on  themselves  the  responsibility  for  this  war 
in  the  face  of  history  "  ?  Could,  then,  any  man's  shoulders  be 
sufficiently  strong  to  bear  such  a  load  of  guilt  ?  Surely  not. 
But  no  one  thinks  of  taking  such  boasters  at  their  word. 

One  day— it  was  about  January  20 — Frederick  came  into 
my  room,  with  an  excited  look,  on  his  return  from  a  walk  in 
the  city. 

"Take  your  diary  in  hand,  my  busy  little  historian,"  he 
called  out  to  me.  "To-day  a  mighty  despatch  has  come." 
And  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"Which  of  my  books?"  I  asked.  '*  The  Protocol  oj 
Peace  r 

Frederick  shook  his  head. 

"  Oh  that  will  be  out  of  use  for  long.  The  war,  which  is 
now  being  fought  out,  is  of  too  powerful  a  nature  not  to 
proceed  to  its  end,  and  give  rise  to  renewed  war.  On  the  side 
of  the  vanquished  it  has  scattered  such  a  plenty  of  the  seeds  of 
hatred  and  revenge,  that  a  future  harvest  of  war  must  grow  out 
of  them ;  and  on  the  other  side,  it  has  brought  such  magnificent 
and  bewildering  successes  to  the  victors,  that  for  them  an 
equally  great  seed-time  of  warlike  pride  must  grow  out  of  it" 

•*  What,  then,  has  happened  of  such  importance  ?  " 

**King  William  has  been  proclaimed  German  Emperor  in 
Versailles.  There  is  now  one  Germany — one  single  empire — 
and  a  mighty  empire  too.  That  forms  a  new  chapter  in  what 
ii  called  the  history  of  the  world.    And  you  may  think  for 


41$  LAV  DOWN  YOUR  ARMS 

yourself,  how,  from  the  birth  of  this  empire,  which  is  the 
product  of  war,  that  trade  will  be  held  high  in  honour.  It  is, 
therefore,  from  this  time,  the  two  continental  states  most 
advanced  in  civilisation  which  will  chiefly  nourish  the  war 
spirit — the  one,  in  order  to  return  the  blow  it  has  received, 
the  other,  in  order  to  keep  the  position  it  has  conquered 
amongst  the  powers — from  hatred  on  that  side,  from  love  on 
this — on  that  side  from  lust  of  revenge,  on  this  from  gratitude 
— it  comes  to  the  same  thing.  Shut  your  Protocol  of  Peace 
— for  a  long  time  henceforth  we  shall  abide  under  the  blood- 
and-iron  sign  of  Mars." 

**  German  Emperor  1  *'  I  cried,  "  that  really  is  grand ; "  and 
I  got  him  to  tell  me  the  particulars  of  this  event. 

"  I  cannot  help,  Frederick,"  I  said,  "  being  pleased  at  this 
news.  The  whole  work  of  slaughter  has  not  then  been  for 
nothing,  if  a  great  new  empire  has  grown  out  of  it." 

"  But  from  a  French  point  of  view  it  has  been  for  less  than 
nothing.  And  we  two  must  have  surely  the  right  of  looking  at 
this  war,  not  from  one  side — the  German  side — only.  Not 
only  as  men,  but  even  from  the  narrow  national  conception, 
we  should  have  the  right  to  bewail  the  successes  of  our  enemies 
and  conquerors  in  1866.  However  I  agree  with  you  that  the 
union  of  dismembered  Germany,  which  has  now  been  attained, 
is  a  fine  thing — that  this  agreement  of  the  rest  of  the  German 
princes  to  give  the  Imperial  Crown  to  the  old  victor,  has 
something  inspiring,  something  admirable  about  it.  The  only 
pity  is  that  this  union  did  not  arise  from  a  peaceful,  but  from 
a  warlike  exploit.  How  was  it  then  that  there  was  not  enough 
love  of  country,  enough  popular  power  in  Germany,  even 
though  Napoleon  IH.  had  never  sent  the  challenge  of  July  19, 
to  form,  of  their  own  will,  that  entity  on  which  their  national 
pride  is  now  to  rest — *  one  single  people  of  brothers '  ?  Now 
they  will  be  jubilant— the  poet's  wish  is  fulfilled.  That  only 
four  short  years  ago  all  were  at  daggers  drawn  with  each  other, 
that  for  Hanoverians,  Saxons,  Frankforters,  Nassauers,  there 
was  no  name  more  hateful  than   'Prussians,'   will  luckily  bi 


LAY   DOWN   TOUR   ARMl.  417 

forgotten.  In  place  of  this,  however,  the  hatred  of  Germans 
in  this  country,  how  it  will  ripen  from  this  time  ! " 

I  shuddered.     "The  mere  word,  hatred "  I  began. 

•*  Is  hateful  to  you  ?  You  are  right.  As  long  as  this  feeling 
is  not  banished  and  outlawed,  so  long  is  there  no  humane 
humanity.  Religious  hatred  is  conquered,  but  national  hatred 
forms  still  part  of  civil  education.  And  yet  there  is  only 
one  ennobling,  cheering  feeling  on  this  earth,  and  that  is 
Love.  We  could  say  something  about  that,  Martha,  could 
we  not?"  I  leaned  my  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  looked 
up  at  him,  while  he  tenderiy  stroked  the  hair  off  my  forehead. 

"We  know,"  he  went  on,  "how  sweet  it  is  that  so  much 
love  should  reside  in  our  hearts  for  our  little  ones,  for  all  the 
brothers  and  sisters  of  the  Great  Family  of  Man,  whom  one 
would  so  gladly — aye,  so  gladly — spare  the  pain  that  threatens 
them.     But  they  will  not *' 

"  No,  no,  Frederick.  My  heart  is  not  yet  so  comprehensive. 
I  cannot  love  all  the  haters.** 

"  You  can,  however,  pity  them  ?  * 

And  so  we  talked  on  a  long  while  in  this  strain.  I  still 
know  it  all  so  exactly,  because  at  that  time  I  often — along  with 
the  events  of  the  war — entered  also  fragments  of  our  conversa- 
tion which  bore  upon  them  into  the  red  volumes.  On  that 
day  we  talked  again  once  more  about  the  future ;  Paris  would 
now  capitulate,  the  war  would  be  over,  and  then  we  could  be 
happy  with  a  safe  conicience.  Then  we  recapitulated  all  the 
guarantees  of  our  happiness.  During  the  eight  years  of  our 
married  life  there  had  never  been  a  harsh  or  unfriendly  word 
between  us — we  had  passed  through  so  many  sorrows  and 
joys  together — and  so  our  love,  our  unity,  was  of  such  a  solid 
kind,  that  no  diminution  of  it  was  any  longer  to  be  feared. 
On  the  contrary,  we  should  only  be  ever  more  intimately 
joined  together,  every  new  experience  in  common  would  at  the 
same  time  result  in  a  new  tie.  When  we  had  become  a  paJf 
of  white-haired  old  folks,  with  what  joy  should  we  look  back 
00  the  untroubled  past,  and  what  a  softly  glowing  evening  of 

«7 


4l8  LAY  DOWN  TOUR  AEMt. 

life  would  then  lie  before  us  !  This  picture  of  the  happy  old 
couple,  into  which  we  should  then  have  turned,  I  had  set 
before  myself  so  often  and  so  livelily,  that  it  became  quite 
clearly  stamped  on  my  mind,  and  even  reproduced  itself  in 
dreams,  as  tf  it  had  really  happened,  with  various  details- 
Frederick  in  a  velvet  skull-cap,  and  with  a  pair  of  gardening 
shears — I  have  no  notion  why,  for  he  had  never  shown  any 
love  for  gardening,  and  there  had  yet  been  no  talk  of  any 
skull-cap — I  with  a  very  coquettishly  arranged  black  lace 
mantilla  over  my  silvery  hair,  and  as  a  surrounding  for 
all  this  a  comer  of  the  park  warmly  lighted  by  the  setting 
summer  sun ;  and  friendly  looks  and  words  smilingly  exchanged 

the  while.    "  Do  you  know  now "    "  Do  you  recollect  that 

time  when *• 


Many  of  the  previous  pages  have  I  written  with  shuddering 
and  with  self-compulsion.  It  was  not  without  inward  horror 
that  I  could  describe  the  scenes  through  which  I  passed  in  my 
journey  to  Bohemia,  and  the  cholera  week  at  Grumitz.  I  have 
done  it  in  order  to  obey  my  sense  of  duty.  Beloved  lips  once 
gave  me  the  solemn  command:  "In  case  I  die  before  you, 
you  must  take  my  task  in  hand  and  labour  for  the  work  o( 
Peace  ".  If  this  binding  injunction  had  not  been  laid  on  me, 
I  could  never  have  so  far  prevailed  over  myself  as  to  tear  open 
the  agonised  wounds  of  my  reminiscences  so  unsparingly. 

Now,  however,  I  have  come  to  an  event,  which  I  will  relate, 
but  which  I  will  not,  nor  can  I  describe. 

No — I  cannot,  I  cannot  I 

I  have  tried — ten  half-written  torn  pages  are  lying  on  the 
floor  by  the  side  of  my  writing-table — but  a  heart-pang  seized 
me ;  my  thoughts  froze  up,  or  got  into  wild  entanglement  in 
my  brain,  and  I  had  to  throw  the  pen  aside  and  weep,  bitter 
hot  tears,  with  cries  like  a  child. 

Now  a  few  hours  afterwards  I  resume  my  pen.  But  as  to 
describing  the  particulars  of  the  next  event,  as  to  relating 


LAY  DOWN   YOUR  ARlft.  4X9 

what  I  felt  when  it  happened,  I  must  give  that  up — the  thing 
itself  is  sufficient 

Frederick — my  own  one — was,  in  consequence  of  a  letter  from 
Berlin  that  was  found  in  his  house,  suspected  of  espionage — 
was  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  fanatics,  crying :  "  A  mort — ^  mort 
U  Prussun*^—dr2iggtd  before  a  tribunal  of  patriots,  and  on 
Febniaiy  i,  1871,  shoe  by  ofder  of  a  court-martial. 


CHAPTER  XfT. 

Serious  mental  illness^  consequent  on  my  husband^  death. —  7%is 
recurs  occasionally. — Conclusion  of  my  diary. — Additions 
to  ^^The  Protocol  of  Peace^\ — Progress  of  the  Peace  movement. 
^Mr.  Hodgson  Pratt* s  letter. — The  Emperor  Fredericks 
manifesto. — /  write  the  last  word  of  my  autobiography. — 
My  grandson^ s  christening. — My  daughter's  engagement, — 
Rudolfs  speech  at  the  christening,^''  Hail  to  the  Future  /  "  . 
— Finis.  I 

When  for  the  first  time  I  came  to  myself  again  peace  had  been 
concluded  and  the  Commune  was  over.  I  had  been  in  bed 
for  a  month  ill,  nursed  by  my  faithful  Mrs.  Anna,  without  any 
consciousness  of  being  alive.  And  what  the  illness  was  I  know 
not  to  the  present  day.  The  people  about  me  called  it  con- 
siderately "  typhus,"  but  I  believe  that  it  was  simply — madness. 
So  much  I  darkly  recall,  that  the  last  interval  had  been  filled 
with  imaginations  of  crackling  shots  and  blazing  conflagrations ; 
probably  the  events  which  were  spoken  of  in  my  presence 
mingled  in  my  phantasy  with  the  truth,  the  battles,  that  is, 
between  the  Versaillese  and  the  Communards,  and  the 
incendiary  fires  of  the  Petroleuses.  That,  when  I  recovered 
my  reason  and  with  it  the  knowledge  of  my  deep  misery,  I  did 
not  do  myself  some  harm,  or  the  pang  did  not  kill  me,  probably 
was  due  to  my  possession  of  my  children.  Through  them  I 
could,  for  them  I  was  forced,  to  live.  Even  before  my  illness, 
on  the  very  day  when  that  terrible  thing  broke  over  me,  Rudolf 
kept  me  alive.  I  was  shrieking  aloud,  on  my  knees,  while  I 
repeated:    "Die!     Diel     I  must  diet"     Then  two  armt 

(420) 


LAT  DOWN   TOUR  ARMS.  42 1 

embimced  me,  and  a  praying,  painfully  solemn,  lovely  boy's  face 
was  looking  at  me—**  Mother  I " 

Up  to  that  time  I  had  never  been  called  by  my  boy  anything 
but  "  Mamma  ".  His  using  at  this  moment,  for  the  first  time, 
the  word  **  Mother  "  said  to  me,  in  those  two  syllables :  "  You 
are  not  alone ;  you  have  a  son  who  shares  your  pain,  who  loves 
and  honours  you  above  all  things,  who  has  no  one  in  this  world 
except  you.     Do  not  abandon  your  child,  Mother  1  ** 

I  pressed  the  dear  creature  to  my  heart,  and  to  show  him 
that  I  had  understood  him,  I  too  faltered  out :  "  My  son,  my 
son  I* 

At  the  same  time  I  recollected  my  girl,  Ais  girl,  and  my 
resolution  to  live  was  fixed.  But  the  pain  was  too  intolerable. 
I  fell  into  intellectual  darkness;  and  not  at  this  time  only.  For 
the  space  of  years,  at  ever-increasing  intervals,  I  remained 
subject  to  recurring  attacks  of  abstraction,  of  which  afterwards 
in  the  state  of  health  absolutely  no  recollection  remained  to 
me.  Now  for  several  years  I  have  been  free  from  them.  Free, 
that  is,  from  the  insensibility  of  my  spirit  pangs,  but  not  from 
conscious  attacks  of  the  bitterest  pain  of  soul.  Eighteen  years 
have  gone  since  the  ist  of  February,  1871,  but  the  deep 
resentment  and  the  deep  mourning,  which  the  tragedy  of  that 
day  awoke  in  me,  no  time  can  remove,  even  should  I  live  a 
hundred  years.  Even  though  in  these  later  times  the  days 
come  ever  more  frequently  in  which  I,  absorbed  in  the  events 
of  the  present,  do  not  think  about  the  misery  of  the  past,  in 
which  I  even  sympathise  so  livelily  with  the  joy  of  my  children 
as  to  feel  myself  also  filled  with  something  like  joy  in  my  life, 
yet  no  night  passes,  mo^  not  one^  in  which  my  wretchedness 
does  not  seize  on  me.  That  is  something  quite  peculiar,  some- 
thing I  can  hardly  describe,  and  which  only  those  will  under- 
stand who  have  experienced  something  similar  themselves.  It 
appears  to  me  like  a  kind  of  double  life  of  the  soul.  Although 
the  single  consciousness  in  the  waking  condition  can  some- 
times be  so  taken  possession  of  by  the  things  of  the  outei 
world  that  it  from  time  to  time  forgets,  yet  in  the  depths  of  my 


4ia  LAY   DOWN  YOUR   ARMl. 

personality  there  is  a  second  consciousness  still  which  always 
retains  that  awful  recollection  with  the  same  true  pain ;  and 
that  self,  when  the  other  has  gone  to  sleep,  asserts  itself,  and 
rouses  the  other  up,  as  it  were,  to  share  its  pain  with  it    Every  i 
night,  and  it   must  be  at  the  same  hour,  I  wake  with  an  i 
indescribable  feeling  of  pain.    My  heart  contracts  painfully,  and  1 
I  feel  as  if  forced  to  weep  bitter  tears  and  utter  sighs  of  agony.  I 
This  lasts  a  few  seconds,  without  my  awakened  self  quite ! 
knowing  why  the  other  unhappy  self  is  so  unhappy.    The  next  \ 
stage  after  this  is  a  compassion  embracing  the  whole  world,  and 
a  sigh,  full  of  the  most  painful  pity:  "Oh  you  poor,  poor  men !  ^ 
And  then  I  see  next  shrieking  shapes  which  are  being  torn  to 
pieces  by  a  rain  of  murderous  shot,  and  then  I  recollect  that 
my  dearest  love  too  was  so  torn  in  pieces. 

But  in  my  dreams,  wonderful  to  relate,  I  never  knew  anything 
of  my  loss.  Thus  it  happened  often  that  I  was  speaking  to 
Frederick  and  conversing  with  him  as  during  his  life.  Whole 
scenes  from  the  past  were  represented,  but  never  any  sad  ones, 
our  meeting  again  after  Schleswig-Holstein,  our  jokes  over 
Sylvia's  cradle,  our  walking  tours  in  Switzerland,  our  hours  of 
study  over  favourite  books,  and  occasionally  that  same  picture 
in  the  evening  light,  where  my  white-haired  husband  with  his 
garden-shears  was  pruning  the  rose-branches,  and  was  sajring 
with  a  smile  to  me  :  "  Are  we  not  a  happy  old  couple  ?  " 

I  have  never  put  off  my  mourning,  not  even  at  my  son's 
wedding.  When  any  one  has  loved,  possessed,  and  lost  such 
a  husband,  and  lost  him  as  I  did,  her  love  "  must  be  stronger 
than  death,"  her  passion  for  vengeance  can  never  cool. 
But  whom  does  this  anger  threaten  ?  On  whom  would  I 
execute  vengeance  ?  The  men  who  did  the  deed  were  not  in 
fault.  The  only  guilty  party  is  the  spirit  of  war^  and  it  is  on 
this  that  my  work  of  persecution,  all  too  weak  as  it  is,  must  be 
exercised. 

My  son  Rudolf  agrees  with  my  views,  though  this  of  course 
does  not  prevent  him  from  going  through  his  military  exercises 
every  year,  and  could  not  prevent  him,  either,  from  marching  to 


LAY  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS.  423 

the  fiontier,  if  the  European  war,  which  is  always  hanging  over 
our  heads,  should  break  out.  And  then,  perhaps,  I  shall  have 
once  more  to  see  how  all  that  is  dearest  to  me  in  the  world  has 
to  be  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  Moloch,  how  a  hearth  blessed 
with  love,  and  which  is  the  sign  to  my  old  age  of  all  its  rest  and 
peace,  has  to  be  laid  in  ruins.  Shall  I  have  to  see  all  this  once 
more,  and  then  once  more  to  fall  into  irrecoverable  madness^ 
or  shall  I  yet  behold  the  triumph  of  justice  and  humanity, 
which  now,  at  this  very  moment,  is  striving  for  accomplish- 
ment in  widely  extended  associations  and  in  all  strata  of 
society  ? 

The  red  volumes,  my  diary,  contain  no  further  entries. 
Under  the  date  February  i,  187 1,  I  marked  a  great  cross,  and 
so  closed  the  history  of  my  life  also.  Only  the  soK^led 
Protocol^  a  blue  volume  which  Frederick  began  along  with  roe 
and  in  which  we  described  the  phases  of  the  idea  of  peace, 
has  been  since  that  time  enriched  with  a  few  notes. 

In  the  first  years  which  succeeded  the  Franco-German  war,  I 
had  few  opportunities,  even  apart  from  my  diseased  condition 
of  mind,  for  marking  any  tidings  of  peace.  The  two  most 
influential  nations  on  the  Continent  were  revelling  in  thoughts 
of  war;  the  one  proudly  looking  back  on  the  victories  she  had 
gained,  the  other  longingly  expecting  her  impending  revenge. 
The  current  of  these  feelings  gradually  began  to  subside.  On 
this  side  of  the  Rhine  the  statues  of  Germania  were  a  little  less 
shouted  over,  and  on  that  side  those  of  Strasbourg  decked  with 
fewer  mourning-wreaths.  Then,  after  ten  years,  the  voice  of 
the  servants  of  peace  might  again  be  heard.  It  was  Bluntschli, 
the  great  professor  of  international  law,  the  same  with  whom 
my  lost  one  had  put  himself  in  communication,  who  set  to 
work  to  obtain  the  views  of  various  dignitaries  and  Govern- 
ments on  the  subject  of  national  peace.  And  then  the  silent 
"  thinker-out  of  battles "  let  fall  the  well-known  expression : 
"Everlasting  peace  is  a  dream,  and  not  a  pretty  dream 
cither". 

^  0h,  of  course,"  I  wrote  at  the  time  in  my  blue  book,  beside 


4^4  >^^  DOWN   TOUR  ARMS. 

Moltke's  words,  "  if  Luther  had  asked  the  Pope  what  he  thought 
of  the  revolt  from  Rome,  the  answer  he  would  have  received 
would  not  have  been  very  favourable  to  the  Reformation." 
To-day  there  is  hardly  any  one  left  who  has  not  dreamed 
this  dream,  or  who  would  not  confess  its  beauty.  And  there 
are  watchers  too;  watchers  conspicuous  enough,  who  are 
longing  to  awake  mankind  out  of  the  long  sleep  of  savagery, 
and  energetically  and  with  a  single  eye  to  their  object  collecting 
themselves  for  the  purpose  of  planting  the  white  flag.  Their 
battle-cry  is,  "  War  on  War,"  their  watchword,  the  only  word 
which  can  have  power  to  deliver  from  ruin  Europe  ^nned  against 
herself  is,  "  Lay  down  your  arms  ".  In  all  places,  in  England  and 
France,  in  Italy,  in  the  northern  countries,  in  Germany,  in 
Switzerland,  in  America,  associations  have  been  formed,  whose 
object  is,  through  the  compulsion  of  public  opinion,  through 
the  commanding  pressure  of  the  people's  will,  to  move  the 
Gk)vemments  to  submit  their  differences  in  future  to  an 
Arbitration  Court,  appointed  by  themselves,  and  so  once  for  all 
to  enthrone  justice  in  place  of  brute  force.  That  this  is  no 
dream,  no  "  enthusiasm,"  is  proved  by  the  facts  that  the 
questions  of  the  Alabama,  the  Caroline  Islands,  and  several 
others  have  already  been  settled  in  this  manner.  And  it  is  not 
only  people  without  power  or  position,  like  the  poor  black- 
smith of  a  former  time,  who  are  now  co-operating  in  this  work  of 
peace ;  no,  members  of  parliament,  bishops,  professors,  senators, 
ministers  are  inscribed  on  the  lists.  I  know  all  this  (which  is 
unknown  to  most  people),  because  I  have  kept  in  communica- 
tion with  all  those  persons,  with  whom  Frederick  established 
relations  in  the  pursuit  of  his  noble  aim.  What  I  found  out, 
by  means  of  these  persons,  about  the  successes  and  the  designs 
of  the  peace  societies  has  been  duly  entered  in  The  Protocol  of 
Peace,  The  last  of  these  entries  is  the  following  letter  which 
the  president  of  the  International  Arbitration  and  Peace 
Association,  having  its  headquarters  in  London,  wrote  mc  iq 
answer  to  an  inquiry  bearing  on  this  subject :— 


L4T  DOWN  TOUR  ARMS.  4^5 

••  IWTERNATIONAL  AkBITRATIOM   AND    PbACS   ASSOCIATION, 

"London,  41  Outer  Tbmplb,  yulyt  1889. 

"  Madam, — ^You  have  honoured  me  by  inquiring  as  to  the 
actual  position  of  the  great  question  to  which  you  have  devoted 
your  life.  Here  is  my  answer:  At  no  time,  perhaps,  in  the 
history  of  the  world  has  the  cause  of  peace  and  good-will  been 
more  hopeful.  It  seems  that,  at  last,  the  long  night  of  death 
and  destruction  will  pass  away ;  and  we  who  are  on  the  moun- 
tain-top of  humanity  think  that  we  see  the  first  streaks  of  the 
dawn  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth.  It  may  seem 
strange  that  we  should  say  this  at  a  moment  when  the  world 
has  never  seen  so  many  armed  men  and  such  frightful  engines 
of  destruction  ready  for  their  accursed  work  ;  but  when  things 
are  at  their  worst  they  begin  to  mend.  Indeed,  the  very 
ruin  which  these  armies  are  bringing  in  their  train  produces 
universal  consternation ;  and  soon  the  oppressed  peoples  must 
rise  and  with  one  voice  say  to  their  rulers  :  *  Save  us,  and  save 
our  children  from  the  famine  which  awaits  us,  if  these  things 
continue ;  save  civilisation  and  all  the  triumphs  which  the 
efforts  of  wise  and  great  men  have  accomplished  in  its  name  ; 
save  the  world  from  a  return  to  barbarism,  rapine  and  terror ! ' 

"  *What  indications,'  do  you  ask,  *are  there  of  such  a  dawn 
of  a  better  day  ? '  Well,  let  me  ask  in  reply,  is  not  the  recent 
meeting  at  Paris  of  the  representatives  of  one  hundred 
societies  for  the  declaration  of  international  concord,  for  the 
substitution  of  a  state  of  law  and  justice  for  that  of  force  and 
wrong,  an  event  unparalleled  in  history  ?  Have  we  not  seen 
men  of  many  nations  assembled  on  this  occasion  and 
elaborating,  with  enthusiasm  and  unanimity,  practical  schemes 
for  this  great  end?  Have  we  not  seen,  for  the  first  time  in 
history,  a  Congress  of  Representatives  of  the  parliaments  of 
free  nations  declaring  in  favour  of  treaties  being  signed  by  all 
civilised  states,  whereby  Ahey  shall  bind  themselves  to  defer 
their  differences  to  the  arbitrament  of  equity,  pronounced  by  an 
authorised  tribunal  instead  of  a  resort  to  wholesale  murder  ? 


4^6  LAY  DOWN  YOUR  AR1I8. 

"  Moreover,  these  representatives  have  pledged  themselves  to 
meet  every  year  in  some  city  of  Europe,  in  order  to  consider 
every  case  of  misunderstanding  or  conflict,  and  to  exercise  their 
influence  upon  Governments  in  the  cause  of  just  and  pacific 
settlements.  Surely,  the  most  hopeless  pessimist  must  admit 
that  these  are  signs  of  a  future  when  war  shall  be  regarded  as 
the  most  foolish  and  most  criminal  blot  upon  man's  record? 

"Dear  madam,  accept  the  expression  of  my  profound  esteem. 
**  Yours  truly, 

"Hodgson  Pratt." 

There  is  also  to  be  found  in  the  blue  book  the  manifesto  of 
a  prince,  dated  March,  1888,  a  manifesto  from  which  at  last, 
breaking  with  old  usage,  instead  of  a  warlike  a  peaceful  spirit 
shines  forth.  But  the  noble  one,  who  left  these  words  to  his 
people,  the  dying  one,  who  with  the  last  effort  of  his  strength 
grasped  the  sceptre  which  he  would  have  swayed  as  if  it  had 
been  a  palm  branch,  remained  helplessly  chained  to  his  bed  of 
pain,  and  after  a  short  interval  all  was  over. 


"  Mother,  will  you  not  put  your  mourning  off  for  the  day 
after  to-morrow  ?  " 

Rudolf  came  into  my  room  with  these  words  to-day.  For 
the  christening  of  his  first-born  son  is  fixed  for  the  day  after 
to-morrow. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  I  replied. 

•*  But  think ;  at  such  a  festival  you  surely  will  not  be  mournful. 
Why  then  keep  the  outer  signs  of  mourning  ?  " 

"  And  you  will  not  be  superstitious,  and  fear  that  the  black 
dress  of  the  grandmother  will  bring  bad  luck  to  the  child  ?** 

"  Oh  no ;  but  it  does  not  harmonise  with  the  surrounding 
gaiety.     Have  you  then  sworn  an  oath  ?  " 

"  No ;  it  is  only  a  firm  resolution.  But  a  resolution  linked 
to  such  a  memory — you  know  my  meaning — that  it  partakes  of 
the  inviolability  of  an  oath." 


LAY  DOWN  TOUR  A&MB.  4^7 

My  son  bowed  his  head,  and  did  not  urge  me  further. 

"I  have  interrupted  you  in  what  you  were  about — you 
were  writing  ?  " 

"Yes— my  autobiography.  God  be  praised,  it  is  at  an  end. 
That  was  the  last  chapter.*' 

** But  how  can  you  bring  your  history  to  an  end?  For  you 
are  still  alive,  and  will  live  many  years  yet — many  happy  years 
— amongst  us,  mother.  Surely  with  the  birth  of  my  little 
Frederick,  whom  I  will  bring  up  to  adore  his  grandmamma,  a 
new  chapter  must  be  opening  for  you." 

"You  are  a  good  child,  dear  Rudolf.  I  should  be  un- 
thankful if  I  did  not  take  pride  and  joy  in  you ;  and  just  as 
much  joy  does  my — and  his — beautiful  Sylvia  give  me.  Oh 
yes  !  I  am  reserved  for  a  blessed  old  age.  A  quiet  evening  ! 
But  still,  the  history  of  the  day  is  over  when  the  sun  has  set,  is  it 
not?" 

He  concurred  with  a  silent  look  of  compassion. 

"  Yes,  the  word  *  Finis '  at  the  end  of  my  biography  if 
correct.  When  I  made  the  resolve  to  write  it,  I  also  deter- 
mined to  break  off  at  February  i,  187 1.  Only  in  the  case  of 
your  being  torn  from  me  also  by  war,  which  might  indeed  so 
easily  have  happened  ;  but  by  good  luck  you  were  not  of 
age  for  service  at  the  time  of  the  Bosnian  campaign — only 
in  that  case  would  I  have  been  forced  to  prolong  my  book. 
Still,  even  as  it  is,  it  was  pain  enough  to  write  it." 

"  And  possibly,  too,  it  may  be  painful  to  read  it,"  remarked 
Rudolf,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the  MS. 

"  I  hope  so.  If  that  pain  should  only  awake  in  a  few  hearts 
an  energetic  hatred  against  the  source  of  all  the  misery  here 
described,  I  shall  not  have  put  myself  to  the  torture  in  vain." 

**  Do  you  not  fear  one  thing  ?  Its  purpose  may  be  seen, 
and  people  so  be  put  out  of  humour  with  it*' 

"That  can  only  happen  with  a  purpose  which  is  perceived, 
but  which  the  author  has  tried  cunningly  to  conceal.  Mine, 
however,  lies  exposed  to  the  light — it  is  announced  in  plain 
words  at  the  first  glance  on  the  title-page." 


4^8  L4T  DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

July,  1889.  The  christening  came  off  yesterday.  It  was 
turned  into  a  festival  promising  twofold  happiness :  for  my 
daughter  Sylvia,  the  godmother  of  her  little  nephew,  and  his 
godfather,  whom  we  had  long  cherished  secretly  in  our 
hearts — Count  Anton  Delnitzky — took  this  opportunity  to 
announce  their  engagement. 

And  thus  I  am  surrounded  on  all  hands  with  happy  relations, 
by  means  of  my  children.  Rudolf,  who  has  six  years  since 
come  into  possession  of  the  Dotzky  estate,  and  has  been  for 
four  years  married  to  Beatrix  nU  Griesbach,  who  had  been 
intended  for  him  since  childhood — the  most  lovely  creature 
that  can  be  imagined — sees  now  his  most  ardent  wish  fulfilled 
by  the  birth  of  an  heir.  In  short,  an  enviable,  brilliant 
destiny. 

The  christening  guests  assembled  at  a  dinner  in  the  summer- 
house.  The  glass  doors  were  left  open,  and  the  air  of  the 
summer  noon  streamed  in,  laden  with  the  scent  of  the  roses. 

Next  me,  in  our  circle,  sat  Countess  Lori  Griesbach, 
Beatrix's  mother.  She  was  now  a  widow.  Her  husband  fell 
in  the  Bosnian  expedition.  She  did  not  take  her  loss  very 
deeply  to  heart.  In  no  case  would  she  wear  continual  mourn- 
ing. On  the  contrary,  this  time  she  had  put  on  garnet-red 
brocade,  with  brilliant  jewels.  She  had  remained  just  as 
superficial  as  she  was  in  her  youth.  Questions  of  toilette,  one 
or  two  fashionable  French  or  English  romances,  and  society 
chatter — that  was  always  sufficient  to  fill  her  horizon.  Even 
coquetting  she  had  not  entirely  given  up.  She  no  longer  had 
designs  on  young  folks,  but  older  personages  endowed  with 
high  rank  or  high  position  were  not  safe  from  her  appetite  for 
conquest.  At  this  time,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  Minister  To-be-sure 
was  her  mark.  The  latter  had,  besides,  changed  his  name — 
and  so  we  called  him  now  Minister  T'other-side,  from  his  new 
catch-word. 

**  I  must  make  a  confession  to  you,"  Lori  said  to  me  as  1 
clinked  my  glass  with  hers  to  the  health  of  the  baby.  "  On 
thii   solemn   occasion   when   we  have   been   christening  the 


LAY   DOWN   YOUR   ARMS.  429 

grandson  of  each  of  us,  I  must  unburden  my  conscience 
before  you.     I  was  quite  seriously  in  love  with  your  husband." 

"  That  you  have  often  confessed  to  me,  dear  Lori." 

**  But  he  always  remained  quite  indifferent** 

"That,  too,  I  knew.** 

"  Well,  you  had  a  husband  true  as  steel,  Martha.  I  could 
not  say  as  much  for  mine.  But  none  the  less  for  that,  I  was 
very  sorry  about  Griesbach.  Well,  he  died  a  glorious  death  ; 
that  is  one  comfort.  A  widow's  life  is  truly  a  tedious  one ; 
especially  as  one  grows  older.  As  long  as  there  are  treats,  and 
people  to  pay  court  to  you,  widowhood  is  not  devoid  of 
.  .  .  but  now  I  assure  you,  one  is  quite  melancholy  all 
alone.  With  you  the  case  is  rather  different.  You  live  with 
your  son  ;  but  I  am  not  at  all  anxious  to  live  with  Beatrix. 
And  she,  too,  is  not  anxious  for  it.  The  mother-in-law  in  the 
house  does  not  do  well ;  for  after  all  one  likes  to  be  mistress 
at  home.  Servants  certainly  are  a  plague — that  is  very  true — 
still  one  can  at  least  give  them  their  orders.  You  will  hardly 
believe  me,  but  I  should  not  feel  very  much  averse  to  marrying 
again.  A  marriage  of  reason,  of  course,  and  with  some 
sedate " 

*•  Minister,  or  something  of  that  sort,"  I  interposed  smiling. 

"  Oh,  you  sly  creature  I  You  have  seen  through  me  again  ! 
But  just  look  there  I  Do  you  not  notice  how  Toni  Delnitzky 
is  talking  to  your  Sylvia  ?    It  is  really  quite  compromising." 

•*  Don't  trouble  yourself.  Godfather  and  godmother  made 
it  up  between  them  on  their  way  from  church.  Sylvia  has 
confided  it  to  me.  To-morrow  the  young  man  will  come  to 
me  to  ask  her  hand." 

"What  do  you  say?  Well,  you  art  to  be  congratulated 
The  handsome  Toni  may  no  doubt  have  been  a  little  gay  from 
time  to  time ;  but  they  are  all  that— that  cannot  be  otherwise 
— and  when  one  thinks  what  a  good  match ** 

"  My  Sylvia  has  never  thought  of  that    She  loves  him.* 

"  Well,  so  much  the  better ;  that  is  a  fine  addition  to  • 
wedding.** 


430  L4T  DOWN  YOUR  A&Mft. 

"  An  addition  ?    It  is  all  in  all." 

One  of  the  guests — an  imperial  and  royal  colonel  on  the 
retired  list — tapped  his  glass  and :  "  Oh  dear,  a  toast,"  most 
of  them  probably  thought,  as  they  broke  off  their  separate  talk, 
and,  sighing,  set  themselves  to  listen  to  the  speaker;  and  it 
was  something  to  sigh  for.  The  unhappy  man  stuck  in  his 
speech  three  times,  and  his  choice  of  a  wish  to  offer  to  us  was 
not  less  unfortunate.  The  infant  was  congratulated  on  being 
born  at  a  time  when  the  country  was  about  soon  to  employ  th* 
services  of  her  sons,  and :  "  May  he  one  day  use  his  sword 
gloriously,  as  his  maternal  great-grandfather  and  as  his  paternal 
grandfather  did  ;  and  may  he  himself  bring  up  many  sons  who 
in  their  turn  may  do  honour  to  their  father  and  their  ancestors, 
and  like  so  many  of  those  who  have  fallen — their  ancestors — 
ancestors — for  the  honour  of  the  land  of  their  ancestors — their 

ancestors  and  the  ancestors  of  their  ancestors — conquer  or 

In  a  word,  the  health  of  Frederick  Dotzky  !  ** 

The  glasses  clinked,  but  the  speech  had  not  warmed  us 
That  this  being,  only  just  come  into  life,  should  already  bw 
entered  on  the  death-roll  of  future  battles  did  not  make  a 
pleasant  impression  on  us. 

To  drive  away  this  painful  picture,  one  of  those  present  felt 
prompted  to  hazard  the  comforting  remark  that  present 
conjunctures  guaranteed  a  long  peace  —  that  the  triple 
alliance 

On  this  the  general  conversation  was  luckily  brought  back 
to  the  domain  of  politics,  and  Minister  T'other-side  took  the 
word. 

"  In  reality  *'  (Lori  Griesbach  was  hanging  on  his  words),  **  it 
is  clear  that  the  defensive  power  which  we  have  attained  is 
something  tremendous,  and  must  deter  all  peace-breakers.  The 
law  of  the  Landsturm,  which  binds  all  citizens  fit  for  service 
from  nineteen  to  forty-two  years  of  age,  and  those  who  have  been 
officers  even  up  to  sixty  years,  to  military  service,  enables  us  at 
the  first  summons  to  put  4,800,000  soldiers  in  the  field  at  once. 
On  the  other  side,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  increased 


LAT  DOWN  tOUR   AJIMS.  4^1 

demands  which  are  contemplated  by  the  war-ministry  press 
heavily  on  the  people,  and  that  the  measures  necessitated  by 
these  demands,  to  secure  the  necessary  readiness  of  the  country 
for  war,  act  in  the  opposite  way  on  the  regulation  of  the 
finances ;  but,  on  the  other  side,  it  is  exhilarating  to  see  with 
what  joyful,  self-sacrificing  patriotism  the  representatives  of  the 
people  always  and  in  all  places  vote  the  increased  burdens 
which  the  ministry  of  war  demands.  They  recognise  the 
necessity  admitted  by  all  enlightened  politicians,  and  condi- 
tioned by  the  increase  in  the  defensive  forces  of  the  neighbouring 
states,  and  by  the  political  situation,  for  subordinating  all  other 
considerations  to  the  u-on  compulsion  of  military  develop- 
ment" 

"  A  live  leading  article,"  said  some  one  half  aloud. 

'*T*other-side,"  however,  went  on  : — 

"  And  all  the  more,  because  it  is  in  this  way  that  a  security 
will  undoubtedly  be  taken  for  the  maintenance  of  peace.  For 
while  we,  in  obedience  to  traditional  patriotism,  emulate  the 
steady  ir -urease  of  the  defensive  power  of  our  neighbours,  in  order 
to  secure  our  own  borders,  we  are  fulfilling  an  exalted  duty,  and 
are  in  hopes  to  banish  also  far  away  all  the  dangers  which  may 
threaten  us  from  any  side ;  and  therefore  I  raise  my  glass  in 
honour  of  that  principle  which,  as  I  know,  is  so  dear  to  the  heart 
of  our  friend,  the  Baroness  Martha — a  principle  which  the 
signatories  of  the  League  of  Peace  of  Central  Europe  also  prize 
highly — and  I  ask  you  to  join  with  me  in  drinking :  *  Long 
live  peace  1  and  may  its  blessings  be  right  long  preserved 
to  usl"* 

"  I  will  not  drink  to  that,"  I  said.  "  An  armed  peace  is  no 
benefit ;  and  war  ought  to  be  avoided,  not  for  a  long  time,  but 
for  ever.  If  one  were  making  a  sea  voyage,  the  assurance  would 
not  suffice  that  it  would  be  *  right  long '  before  the  ship  struck 
on  a  rock.  The  honourable  captain  should  aim  at  this — that 
the  whole  voyage  shall  be  got  over  prosperously." 

Dr.  Bresser,  who  was  still  our  best  home  friend,  came  to 
my  aid. 


43*  LAY    DOWN    YOUR    ARMS. 

"  In  reality,  your  excellence,  can  you  trust  to  the  honest 
and  sincere  desire  for  peace  of  men  who  are  soldiers  from 
passionate  enthusiasm?  who  will  not  hear  of  anything  which 
endangers  war — viz.,  disarmaments,  leagues  of  states,  arbitra- 
tion courts  ?  And  could  the  delight  in  arsenals  and  fortresses 
and  manoeuvres  and  so  forth  persist,  if  these  things  were 
looked  on  merely  as  what  they  are  held  out  as  being — mere 
scarecrows?  So  that  the  whole  money  expended  on  their 
erection  is  spent  only  in  order  that  they  may  never  be  used  ? 
The  peoples  are  to  be  obliged  to  give  up  all  their  money  to 
make  fortifications  on  their  frontiers  with  a  view  of  kissing 
hands  to  each  other  across  those  frontiers  ?  The  army  is  thus 
to  be  brought  down  to  the  level  of  a  mere  gendarmerie  for  the 
maintenance  of  peace,  and  *the  most  exalted  War-lord'  is  to 
preside  merely  over  a  crowd  of  perpetual  shunners  of  war  ? 
No ;  behind  this  mask,  the  si  vis  pacem  mask,  glances  of 
understanding  wink  at  each  other,  and  the  deputies  who  vote 
every  war-budget  wink  at  the  same  time." 

"  The  representatives  of  the  people  ?  "  broke  in  the  Minister. 
"  Surely  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  is  worthy  of  nothing  but  praise, 
which  in  threatening  seasons  they  never  fail  to  show,  and 
which  finds  cheering  expression  in  the  unanimous  acceptance 
of  the  appropriate  laws." 

"  Forgive  me,  your  excellence.  I  should  like  to  call  out  to 
those  unanimous  voters,  one  ofter  the  other,  *  Your  **  Yes  " 
will  rob  that  mother  of  her  only  child.  Yours  will  put  that 
poor  fellow's  eyes  out.  Yours  will  set  fire  to  a  collection  of 
books  which  cannot  be  replaced.  Yours  will  dash  out  the 
brains  of  a  poet  who  would  have  been  the  glory  of  your 
country.  But  you  have  all  voted  '*  yes  "  to  this,  just  in  order 
not  to  appear  cowards,  as  if  the  only  thing  one  had  to  fear  in 
giving  assent  was  what  regards  oneself.  Is  then  human  egotism 
so  great  that  this  is  the  only  motive  which  can  be  suggested  for 
opposing  war  ?  Well,  I  grant  you  egotism  is  great :  for  each 
one  of  you  prefers  to  hound  on  a  hundred  thousand  men  to 
destruction  rather  than  that  you  should  expose  your  dear  self 


a  ill 
ot  1 


LAY   DOWN    YOUR   ARMS.  433 

even  to  the  suspicion  of  having  ever  experienced  one  single 
paroxysm  of  fear.* " 

"  I  hope,  my  good  doctor,"  said  the  colonel  dryly,  "  that 
you  may  never  become  a  deputy ;  the  whole  house  would  hiss 
you  down." 

"  Well,  to  expose  myself  to  the  risk  of  that  would  suffice  for 
a  proof  that  I  am  not  a  coward.  It  is  swimming  against  the 
stream  which  requires  the  strength  of  steel." 

"  But  suppose  the  moment  of  danger  should  come,  and  we 
should  be  found  unprepared  ?  " 

"  Let  such  a  condition  of  justice  be  instituted  as  would 
make  the  occurrence  of  *  the  moment  of  danger '  an  impossi- 
bility. For  what  such  a  moment  might  be,  colonel,  no  one 
can  at  present  form  any  clear  conception.  With  the  dreadful- 
ness  of  the  science  of  warlike  implements  which  we  have  already 
attained,  and  which  is  constantly  advancing,  with  the  enormous 
proportions  of  the  powers  engaged  in  the  contest,  the  next  war 
will  in  reality  be  no  mere  *  moment  of  danger '.  But  there  is  really 
no  word  for  it.  A  time  of  gigantic  misery — aid  and  nursing 
out  of  the  question — sanitary  reforms  and  the  arrangements  for 
provisioning  will  appear  as  mere  irony  in  face  of  the  demands 
upon  them.  The  next  war,  about  which  people  talk  so  glibly 
and  so  indifferently,  will  not  be  a  gain  for  one  side  and  loss 
for  the  other,  but  ruin  for  all.  Who  amongst  us  here  votes 
for  this  *  moment  of  danger  *  ?  " 

"  Not  I,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  Minister,  "  and  not  you  either, 
dear  doctor ;  but  men  in  general,  and  not  our  Government — 
I  will  be  surety  for  them — but  the  other  states." 

"What  right  have  you  to  think  other  men  worse  and 
more  unreasonable  than  you  or  I  ?  Now  I  will  tell  you 
a  Jittlc  story  : — 

Before  the  closed  gate  of  a  beautiful  garden  stood  a  crowd 
oT  men,  one  thousand  and  one  in  number,  looking  in  very 
longingly.  The  gatekeeper  had  orders  to  let  the  people  in,  in 
case  the  majority  among  them  wished  for  admission.  He 
called  one  of  them  to  him,  *  Tell  me — only  speak  honestly— 

28 


~7 


434  LAY   DOWN   YOUR  ARMS. 

do  you  wish  to  come  in  ? '  *  Oh  yes,  to  be  sure  I  do  j  but 
the  other  thousand,  I  am  certain,  do  not/  The  careful  gate- 
keeper wrote  this  answer  in  his  notebook.  Then  he  called  up 
a  second.  He  said  the  same.  Again  the  other  entered  in  the 
'Yes'  column  the  number  i,  and  in  the  *No*  column  the 
number  looo.  And  so  it  went  on  up  to  the  last  man.  Then 
he  added  up  the  figures.  The  result  was — one  thousand  and 
one  *  Yes ' ;  over  a  million  '  No '.  So  the  gate  remained  shut, 
for  the  *  Noes '  had  a  crushing  majority ;  and  that  proceeded 
from  the  fact  that  every  one  considered  himself  obliged  to 
answer  for  the  others  too,  instead  of  for  himself  only."   j 

"  To  be  sure,"  began  the  Minister  thoughtfully ;  arfa  again 
Lori  Griesbach  turned  her  eyes  on  him  with  admiration.  "  To 
be  sure,  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  if  a  unanimous  vote  in  favour 
of  laying  down  one's  arrets  could  be  brought  about ;  but,  on 
the  other  side,  what  GdVernment  would  dare  to  make  the 
beginning?  To  be  sure,  there  is  nothing  so  desirable  as 
concord ;  but,  on  the  other  side,  how  can  lasting  concord  be 
thought  possible  so  long  as  human  passions,  separate  interests, 
and  so  forth,  still  continue?" 

**I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  my  son  Rudolf,  now  taking  the 
word.  (  "  Forty  millions  of  inhabitants  in  a  state  form  one 
whole.  Then  why  not  several  hundred  millions?  Can  this 
be  susceptible  of  logical  and  mathematical  proof,  that  so  long 
as  human  passions,  separate  interests,  and  so  forth,  still 
continue,  it  is  indeed  possible  for  forty  millions  of  people  to 
renounce  the  right  to  go  to  war  with  each  other  about  them ; 
nay,  three  states,  like  the  present  triple  alliance,  may  ally 
themselves  together,  and  form  a  *  League  of  Peace  * ;  but  five 
states  cannot  do  it,  and  must  not  do  it.  Truly,  truly,  our 
world  of  to-day  gives  itself  out  as  wondrous  wise,  and  laughs 
at  the  savages :  and  yet  in  many  things  we  also  cannot  count 
up  to  five."    y 

Some  voices  made  themselves  heard :  "What?*'  "  Savages  ?" 
**  That  about  us,  with  our  over-refined  culture  ?  "  "  At  the  cod 
of  the  nineteenth  century?  * 


LAY    DOWN    YOUR   ARMt.  435 

Rudolf  Stood  op.  t 

**  Yes ;  savages.  I  will  not  recall  the  word  \A.nd  so  long 
as  we  cling  to  the  past  we  shall  remain  savages.  J  But  we  are 
already  standing  at  the  gate  of  a  new  period.  Glances  are 
directed  forwards.  All  arc  pressing  on  strongly  towards 
another,  a  higher  form.  Savagery,  with  its  idols  and  its 
weapons — there  are  many  who  are  already  edging  away  gradually 
from  it.  (if  even  we  may  be  nearer  to  barbarism  than  most 
people  believe,  we  are  also  perhaps  nearer  to  our  ennoblement 
than  most  people  hope.  The  prince  or  statesman  is  perhaps 
already  alive  who  is  to  bring  to  perfection  the  exploit  which 
will  live  in  all  future  history  as  the  most  glorious  and  most 
enlightened  of  all  exploits — that  which  will  carry  universal 
disarmament.  ^  We  have  placed  our  feet  already  on  the 
threshold  of  an  age  in  which  manhood  is  to  raise  itself  into 
humanity — to  the  nobility  of  humanity,  as  Frederick  Tilling  used 
to  say.  Mother,  I  drink  this  glass  now  to  the  memory  of  your 
unforgotten,  loved,  and  trusted  one,  to  whom  I  too  owe  every- 
thing, all  I  think  and  all  I  am ;  and  from  that  glass  (and  he  threw 
it  against  the  wall,  where  it  shattered  to  pieces)  shall  no  other 
drop  ever  be  drunk  again ;  and  to-day,  at  my  new-born  child's 
christening,  shall  no  other  toast  be  proposed  than  this — *  Hail 
to  the  future  !  *  To  fulfil  its  tasks  shall  we  clothe  ourselves  in 
steel?  No.  Shall  we  endeavour  to  show  ourselves  worthy 
of  our  fathers*  fathers,  as  the  old  phrase  goes  ?  No.  But  of  our 
grandsons'  grandsons.  Mother,"  said  he,  breaking  off,  **  you 
are  weeping.  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  What  do  you 
see  there  ?  " 

My  gaze  had  been  directed  to  the  open  glass  door.  The 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  had  thrown  a  halo  of  tremulous  gold 
round  a  rose-bush,  and  from  this,  rising  up  in  life-like  clearness, 
was  my  dream-picture.  I  saw  the  garden-shears  glitter,  the 
white  hair  shine.  He  smiled  at  me  as  he  said,  *'  Are  we  not 
a  happy  old  couple  ?  ** 

Ah,  woe  it  me  1 

FlMA 


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